My office did not feel like its usual safe space today. I was struggling with a patient, hitting a wall in the relationship building that was key to doing good work together. Not all patients needed the same level of intimacy but we needed to have some kind of connection. Event he fiddling Leahy's playing in the background didn't have their usually centering effect on me.
Looking up from Terry's file, my eyes travelled the walls, seeking I don't know what. The painting of Dunnottar, the shelves and shelves spilling books. Books. Hope hit. Roxanne. I needed Roxanne. Before I could stand up the flashback hit me hard.
What I remember most clearly is the lapis stone resting on her chest, stark against her dark skin. I remember the curve of her cheek, built by a gentle smile as it climbed into black curls. And I remember the caramel timber of her voice as she shared a piece of herself with us. And I remember the moment our eyes met and held and my soul connected with the woman who would become one of my biggest heroes.
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