The want of change.

So often I resorted to judgement and criticism of him and his disinterest. Almost everyday my eyes found him in that familiar angle of repose on a mattress on the hard wood floor. Later I learned it was the place he retreated to for extended periods of time. It was in a holy book, The Magnificat, that opened to a page "languor of the soul". I was naive to the soul's ailment when it has immeasurably suffered. I was naive to my urgent response to judge and criticize another when in truth my own soul suffers in some way.