Mourning on the run
I don't write as often as I should. At different times writing here has served different purposes. When I lived in a far off world, foreign to most, it was a way to share my new normal with my friends and family. When I was stressed and couldn't figure out who to talk to about adjusting to the foreign place, it was a place to vent. It was a way to document my travels around the world. But more often, it was like having a coffee with a friend that just sat and listened and didn't offer their unwanted opinion. A friend that just sat and listened. Also, it was a way to document the present, so that I could go back and read what was going on a year ago, or a few months ago, and see how much my life has changed or how much I've evolved. And when things were really bad and I felt like I was just barely treading water, I could look back to those posts and see that I made it, and it would give me the courage to keep swimming harder with faster strokes when I needed to. Although...