I’ve run out of things to numb myself. The chocolate milk and hostess donuts don’t even work temporarily. Neither does alcohol.
I write about faith and trust and love. All things I don’t know about.
I know only one thing. How to run and hide. Ok. That’s 2. I never said I know how to count.
Sadness. I know sadness. I’ve been well acquainted with sadness my entire life, I think.
Today I needed a break from my kids.
I am sitting here on a foggy day in my not-warm-enough house and all is quiet. The silence makes it impossible to hide from the hurt and sadness. Why is that?
Believe it or not. I don’t have much to say. This week I’ve talked less and said more than I think I ever have before.