...and just let go

I'm so often given advice that ends with those four words. I sometimes wish people would stop advising me and just listen.

I get headaches because of the damage I've done to my skull. I sometimes feel displaced or "out of body".

I remember being before I was. This makes me a madman to some. But I remember light and wings on my shoulders. And I remember why I fell, why I am no longer in the light.

Now I receive only fragments of the celestial warmth that once bathed my skin. All I want is to go home, but my work is, it seems, unfinished.

I once read that God gives the hardest battles to the strongest, and that we go through a lot because we're going places and He is trying to prepare us for what's to come.

Though many will not believe me, as of this writing I am 186,343 years old. I have seen much during my exile. I have endured much.

And yet I am wary of where I must be going, and I dread what Father is preparing me for.