Recently, I have been feeling a deep set loneliness encasing my heart, keeping her far from everyone else. Mother’s Day slowly appears in the future, and I begin to get afraid.
Today, I bleed. In the space of a year, everything has changed.
If it hasn’t been so great so far, perhaps your highlight is yet to come.
My name is Evee. Not Evie or Eve, and in fact I dislike both of those names quite strongly.
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.
Crying is a natural response to the world. Yet, here we are insisting it takes place behind closed doors, and it is something we should be embarrassed about.
I get stuck in my head a lot. I think and think and think, and sometimes the words I want to say just dry up in my mouth, and I keep everything inside. It’s not that I actively choose to not talk about it anymore, I just can’t express myself.