Trust is earned, and though he hasn’t had very much time to do so, he’s only proven himself as unfailing. If I had to imagine what his palm would tell me, it would be that. Unfailing. When I’m grieving, he provides comfort. When I’m angry, he lets me rage but tempers my fury. When I’m frightened, he’s right there beside me, facing whatever comes my way. And sometimes tossing pebbles to scare me. I stifle a smile. My mind is in tangles over him.
