You & Me

by Tal Bauer

Failure lived inside me like an organ. I could feel it pumping alongside my heart. Keeping me alive, even when I didn’t want it to.

If I could find it, maybe I could cut this pulsing mass out of me that kept fucking everything up. But if I could cut my failure out, would there be anything left of me?

What did that say about someone, that their life might be better if they’d never been a part of it at all?

Being a parent is like driving a car without brakes. You grip the wheel and hold on tight, pray you don’t crash too hard.”

“This is you and me, Landon.

“You are the gradations of undiscovered colors in my soul. You are the inhale before my blank canvas, the moment before my pencil touches the page. You are the manifestation of my dreams. You are my intensity.”

What was most extraordinary about us, I thought, was how normal our lives were, and yet, how amazingly, incredibly, beautifully wonderful everything had become.

“Dad, you are my idol, my hero, my knight in shining armor. Every lesson I learned in this life began at your feet, and all the best parts of me come from you and your example. My life has been blessed by your love. I am the man I am today because of your support, and your guidance, and your unwavering, undying belief in the best of me. You cradled my dreams in your heart and you taught me that nothing was out of reach. There is no dream too big in my life, no hope that I can’t wrap my arms around—”

He’d become the foundation of my soul.

You and me.