there are a few posts in my drafts folder that I haven’t wanted to make public. they come across as really hopelessly sad, and I’m not really so sad.
um, but.. the act of sitting quietly a moment to write something means a cessation of all of the avoidance strategies that usually fill up my day. avoidance! avoidance! not of sadness though. I’m just lost. I’m just lost and treading water and waiting. waiting, and singing at the top of my voice to direct my attention away from the lack for forward movement __
I just heard Brenton’s car come into the driveway.