I’m stealing this beautiful, devastating post from a friend from home, who has put into words all the things I feel. And have felt. And will continue to feel.
Change is brutal. It is relentless. It is gorgeous. It is freedom.
This is where something touching is supposed to go.
This is where I’m supposed to spill my heart and explain to my very small world how the most recent events in my life came to pass…What I have learned. It should be insightful… moving.
But as I sit here, staring at a blinking cursor and a blank page, I have quickly accepted that nothing I say will be satisfying… or rather, satisfying enough for each and every person who ventures upon these words. Moreover, the words that I myself write won’t even be what I would consider satisfying or remotely eloquent. Maybe this solves nothing and answers no one – but it helps.
And since we are talking about words, here are a few that have been thrown at me recently:
Being called selfish is a bizarre experience for me. It’s certainly something I am not used…
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