Haven’t written here for awhile because I just went through a season where I didn’t feel like words were necessary. But of course they are, just not all the time.
I’ve been saved by words. I’ve also found words to be entirely useless. It’s a paradox.
When you died, I was utterly lost for words. Yet a few days later, I found words pouring out of me. They helped me make sense of the outrageousness of your death. And they were a balm too, soothing in their own way.
Not sure what the point of this post is, but two days ago I came back to words again. I felt a thirst in me to read fiction again. I’m back to reading 1Q84 – started a few years ago and stopped a couple of chapters in. And I’m writing again and blogging for the first time in a month.
Feels good to be back!