“I have made sacrifices
So many sacrifices
I done gave up so much free time knowing time ain’t free
Fuck it, I sacrificed it
To get ahead man you gotta make sacrifices
Fuck it though, that’s how hungry my appetite is” – Big Sean (Sacrifices)
I might disintegrate.
This feels like another piece of me is dying.
…… what if it is a birth?
I have become far too repetitious for even my own spiral. You see…
The problem with being an air.
Is that you encapsulate your person in that love.
Surrounding them without reservation.
In hopes that you convey early on.
That they no longer linger among icebergs of doubt.
Giving wholly the very essence of your spirit.
Energy resides among the leaves still swirling.
Above.
Below.
Pay it no mind.
You know exactly what it/this is.
Then they are gone.
And you are left in the vortex.
Raging up to a CAT 4 and depressing to a tropical storm.
I just need to learn dissipation.
Pause the relentless currents of sorrow.
I have become far too accustom.
How does one dissipate?
My insides feel like the horror that covered our faces as the sun rose over Florida yesterday.
I am war torn and weary.
Yet still standing.
Somehow.
I decided to turn inwards for a while.
I have loved and appreciated all that The Optimistic Widow has given me over the past two years but I need a reprieve.
I need to heal.
I need to focus on the kids.
Finish this damn book.
Once and for all.
Away from harsh lashing of social existence.
I shall return ^-^ Life cannot stave off the dialect that flows in my very being.
Pray for:
Grounding
Creativity
Love
Focus
Growth
Reinvention
Thank you for enduring this journey beside me<3
#losssucks #hiatus #writersofinsta #widow #blogger
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