Yossi understands the strange architecture of my nature. 
Yet many of the people who cross my path have struggled — and still do — 
with the way I falter when it comes to tending friendships and sustaining human bonds.
They feel unsettled when silence replaces presence, when their birthday 
slips from my memory, or when their sorrow meets no echo in me. 
Their gestures, their gifts, their careful acts of kindness fall into a quiet void, 
unanswered and unacknowledged.

And if I myself cannot forgive a sharp word, a small betrayal, or any wound inflicted upon me — while others have forgiven me again and again for my awkwardness, my indifference, and all the flaws that accompany me — then this is not the work of a merciful God.
It is a matter that belongs entirely to me, and to the long, private road I must walk within myself.