Sometimes I think too much. Sometimes I just need somewhere to put these words because I don't want them to go without being placed in the world before they do. It's usually just a thought or an idea. Sometimes it takes my whole little mind.

I've stopped at this intersection; not because I'm unsure of which direction to take, but rather unsure of where it is I am able to travel. It seems there is supposed to be a sign here. There's a cleared spot at the fork and a hole waiting to be occupied by a marker in order to guide this young traveler on their way. Staring at the hole seems like a futile effort. For hoping and fretting do not place the marker or hasten its arrival.

While delayed at this crossroad, it would seem the only options are to allow the mind to travel forward and back in thought. Both can hurt, overwhelm, delight, burden, and build; it all depends on how far the little mind can go. Going back tends to be easier—if only because you have been there before. It wonders back down a path to search for a feeling or memory that might have been left behind by mistake.

It sees how young you were, how unknowing, and how naïve. How you thought yourself ready once. Ready to take on the world with all of its cruelties and magnificence. You feel the rush of possibility and that nothing is too far from reach. The mind pulls farther still to misty night in a shadowed place that felt far safer than any light you might have graced before. Begging him to let you in and allow you to offer an outstretched hand. You don't need him to be an immortal hero of steel in hardened armor, but rather long to freely love the dark and tortured knight.

You know not what may be, or to what depths you may be taken, but you know that the journey cannot be taken alone. The fear does not lie in loneliness. The fear lies in the possibility of that road yet untraveled to be one without him. To love like this does not so happen even in the tales of once upon a time. He does not take the outstretched hand.

He places a band of silver and gold upon it instead. A circle; complete and unending to say this is the path your love shall also take. The little mind bounds happily along on its way back to that current fork in the path. Stopping to look to and from on all that had happen. Tears from grief and joy; laughter at pain and jest. Back now the meager clearing only to find that no marker has found purchase there. The little mind cannot tarry for hope or despair, but runs ahead to seek what promise may exist beyond the crossing.

The little mind strays down a road not yet travelled; exploring all of the wonderful and terrifying possibilities that path may lead. Screaming, pushing, breathing, and the cries of an infant heard; the first of his name. Lullabies, first smile, first steps—first everything. Boy or girl, it matters not. Only family, love—what these two have given to the world to make a better place. The little mind stretches to picture it all and finds itself being pulled away. Look and see only two to travel along wherever they might in this vast world. See a picture in front of an ancient stone, a boat across a vast ocean or a flight over the arctic ice. Responsible for themselves and no other; giving to others to make the world a better place.

The little mind retreats in stride, slow to return to the clearing once again. The hope and fear have been kept at bay for a little while, but the water begins to edge into the clearing. The hole remains without a sign, the clearing yet to host a guide. The little mind rests back in place, and I breathe once again. The water rises higher, but I cannot move. I still don't know which way I may go. Small waves lap against my shoulders, cold and harsh. The water will soon rise over me and lull me under its unforgiving tide. Then I feel something—a hand that fits inside my own. I look to find its owner and he's standing next to me.

No steel glints in the sun, no armor to weigh him down. The water crashes up over us as we fight it's rising. He swims and pulls us up above the tide to a dark vessel that matches his garments. Drenched to the bone, lungs sting to be filled with air so fresh. The sky grows grey and opens to rain. My dark knight pulls his cape to surround us both.

"This will not keep the rain away," I say.

"I don't need to keep it away," he replies.

"I tremble, yet the flood and the rain do not frighten you," I say.

"They do," he admits.

I turn to look him in the eye, "You don't look frightened at all."

"I cannot stop the tide. I cannot halt the rain. They may come and come again," he whispered in my ear. "But we will never weather them alone."