8 Jan

I wish I had something important and philisophical to start this off with. Instead, I’ve been resorting to all the saved pictures on my computer, ones that I have saved because I love them, to tell my story. The truth is, I want to write, write, write. But I don’t even know where to start.

Each day just gets that little bit easier, I guess. I wish there was a handbook, a manual and a procedure to walk me through this. I like lists, and I like knowing exactly what to do, and this complete and utter hopelessness is slowly affecting me. I’ve broken out in emotional stress hives. HIVES. It’s itchy and sore. The universe is kind of screwing me over at the moment. But I know it’s for the best. I’ll be stronger for it.

I don’t know what I want, but I’m slowly understand what I need.

I’m getting there. Day by day. I’m starting with a holiday.


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