I just don’t want to write bullshitty things.
Feelings and other serious topics are not exactly my forte.
But in this moment, as my insides bounce around with the all too familiar panicking ache, I realize I NEED to write something.
Perhaps this is how Charlotte felt when she spastically sent out those response-less letters to her Belgian professor.
It’s a great reminder that those we admire most, were just as troubled.
Selfishness and anger are so easy, too. How many times have I nearly convinced myself to make a list? 20 times I bet. Yes, it seems like making a list of someone’s flaws would ease pain, but I know that tearing someone else apart will never make me or my situation better.
I’m so grateful for plants and trees. The oxygen they create so that I can take those deep breaths and calm myself is endlessly appreciated.
Then the silliest thing seems to pound in my head as I think a melancholy “I don’t get it…”
And the most comforting memory reapplies itself….
I remember what my Dad would say to me when I was a little girl. He would always reply, “There’s nothing to get.”