I am 21. I own a house to my own, and I have a small cat, her name is Milky Way.
When holding her, she's the most precious thing, she actively cuddles, reaches to touch my face, holds my hand with her paw...

I was watching a movie with her and I guess I realized, I can hold that softness, respect it, desire it... but I'm holding the picture of a fire expecting warmth.

18 months ago, a marriage I was in, where everything was wrong, but I loved anyways. My back felt to the wall, but I was vulnerable anyways, all my cards were on the table, the good and the bad. I did many things wrong and failed to provide safety, space and growth. That's on me.

One day I come home from work and I find out I'll never see her again. It was all my fault and I'm a monster.

I finish my 84 hour workweek dumbfounded. Cold, early winter, in 3ft of mud holding a firehouse for hours in the middle of the night and pitch dark.

Almost killed myself on a motorcycle shortly afterwards. Broke my ankles and spine.

Few months later, my mom dies. I left work early to see her in the hospital, only to catch a glimpse. She was living her worst nightmares in her mind, deathly afraid.

I was the only person she could recognize.

She cried out to me.

I held her, sang to her... until she died.

Her eyes gloss disappeared instantly. It's not like the movies.

I use what I could to buy a house and get myself right with the money I received. I couldn't spend it doing anything else. I know it's what she would have wanted.

I spend the next year mostly alone.

I connect with a few women, but realize, I feel a little, but not the same I used to, I don't talk to any more than a week.

Therapy for men is the most expensive joke I've ever paid for.

Which brings me to today.

Have I lost my ability to feel the warmth of the fire?