As surgery approaches, so do the tides of my emotions. I’ve reconciled with my body for the most part. It is what it is. It’s a vessel. My body, this physical cage, it does not define me. It is a map of the roads I’ve traveled, the battles I’ve fought, the wars I’ve won. This body, this cage is only as good as I allow it to be. My soul on the other hand is tortured. My soul screams out for justice. I face my days, I go to work, I do my job, I spend time with family and friends. I laugh. I smile. I joke. Inside I scream. My soul screams for justice. I fantasize about seeing HIM. Facing HIM. I long for a moment where our eyes could meet and I could will him to hear and see my soul screaming. And I know that moment would fall on deaf ears and a blind heart…. and my soul screams for justice.