Like i wish I hadn’t started this writing project. There’s a reason that I haven’t significantly written about this whole thing for 10 years after completing the book, because it’s tough. I know that in these prompts I have hardly gone very deep (yet), but even then it’s just always at the surface. I feel like I’ve got no skin on, and everything feels just that little bit too sensitive.
And I knew it would, but that’s how it feels…today.
Today, I feel like a bruise. Holding myself a bit too gingerly because I don’t want anyone to press on anything.
And do you know what? Tomorrow I probably won’t feel like this. I’ll probably like this writing project again and see the joy and the point. Tomorrow, I’ll wake up and it will be a better day.
Tomorrow, I will feel…something else. Because that is the truth and reality of grief, that some days you wake up and just know that it isn’t going to be great day, but then in a day you may feel something completely different. And that is the reality 13 and a half years in, which is horrendous in so many ways, but comforting in so many others.
Today, that’s how I feel.