I tell myself this is temporary, not forever.

He has no words, but rage speaks volumes.

I’m stepping over his life to get to the real him. He has strewn his life all around. Clothes, books., games...stuff. Disorder and unwillingness to fight our worst temptations.

For my teenage boy, each day is a dog year.

That is what a pandemic can do.

What if the pandemic ends, and the rage stays?

I tell myself this is temporary, not forever.