But First, We Start With the Things

The closer we get to others, the higher chance that their story will be able to reach out and touch us. When that happens, our hearts might break. And when two or more people are standing together with our chests ripped open, and our arms outstretched, and our hands wrapped around each other's heart-shards, we will become stained with the blood of each other's history, and of our here and now. It's inevitable.

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A Time to Walk Through the Dark Woods

Much of my life has been lived in a state of grief. Some of it has simply happened, some of it I have caused or contributed to. Divorce. Stepmom-hood. Loss. Depression. Change. Grief is mostly un-fun and it's pain, and avoiding painful un-fun things is sometimes my favourite. So it built up.  It's been a... Continue Reading →

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