I have been down in the deep. Weighted in the murky gray and ignoring the calls to free myself of the seagrass that have tangled about my feet.
Processing. Processing. Processing.
Being kind to myself has never been an easy place to live in. It is easier to be alone.
Saw a friend today, it was good to get out. It might be easier to be alone, but it does not challenge your mood. Coming up from the deep, filling your lungs. Reminding you that you are very much alive.
And what will I do with the time I have left?
Being in the deep is a beautiful place for my soul, but too long there, and I will drown.
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