A lot of you are pouring out your feelings onto the web. Dripping pain, even fictitious pain, on wounds I'd rather not reopen. Splitting gashes I've meticulously closed, cauterizing when necessary to blot out what needs not reign within. Feel free to stop any time.
I'm trying not to be pensive and to give thoughtful a little room because I'd just rather not. Life is stressful enough without adding to it or necessarily talking about it because the internet does not offer me freedom of anonymity. Perhaps for you it does.
I know he's reading.
Your palpable pain reminds me of an even more stress-filled time when mine was quotidian. And I'd just rather not.
Back sliding and reliving it, fielding calls and emails and text messages from the responsible party. I'm continuing my victory-filled journey beyond the pain, toward healing, seeing minor setbacks for just what they are, grabbing a Bible for something, anything tangible to hold on to, keeping insanity at bay because I'd just rather not.