I managed to spend most of May looking inward at all the things I’ve lost, and all the things that are missing from my life. It was a pretty lousy month, all things considered, which is a pity since it was actually a pretty good month too.
But sometimes sitting around moping is part of the process, and I won’t deny that my reasons for it were damn good ones. I’m also not going to stand here and try to tell anyone that I’m finished, either. That party’s just starting, I’m afraid.
Even still, there is a point where I stand aside and look at that person so focused on the abysmal hole in her heart that she doesn’t see the good food on her plate, or the sunshine out the window, or the friends at her side. I look at that person and think, damn, she’s stupid.
All I can say is I’m trying. I’ve got the Zeppelin playing on the box, my most favorite book in the world on my nightstand, a new Ravelry account, and ten sheets of lovingly chosen scrapbook paper for my Africa album, and I’m doing what I can not to lose the little I’ve not lost before it’s gone, too.