Today, I bleed. In the space of a year, everything has changed.
I can’t help but wonder: does my memory serve me? Or, have you have been gone so long that I can barely find the memory?
Locked down, and unable to escape the leaks, my thoughts turned inward. I crept into some of the darkest crevices of my mind, shocked at some of the old relics I had found in distant memories.
Grief is the hollowness in your heart that only fades with time and effort and sometimes even effort isn’t enough to make cleanse the pain that grief brings along with it.
I wondered if it would be okay, me living alone. Waking up, cooking, watching TV. I was afraid I would be like that man from Up.
When life slips down the hill, Katie and I often turn to each other and ask each other the same question: What is the point? With our feet slipping, trying to stop everything from falling, our arms aching and our bodies covered in mud, we scream WHAT IS THE POINT IN TRYING SO HARD?
Writing on the blog is deeply personal. I imagine I sit you down, offer you tea, hold your hand and look you in the eyes. Whilst you may read this and throw it away, or never think of it again, I think of it every day. The power of you sitting with me, and giving me space to share my thoughts.
I decided I enjoyed being bad at yoga. Of course, I was bad at yoga. I’m a clumsy girl. Yoga is reserved for a different type of elegance, one I can’t even begin to harbour.