I have dozens of drafts of posts that I intended to share. It’s a fascinating exercise reading through them and feeling the things I felt when I wrote them.
Usually I get about a third of the way through before I start to trail off – maybe my sister came home and I wanted to chat with her. Maybe I was too tired and emotional and the words stopped making sense.
I stumbled across one that was complete. It told the story I’d been meaning to tell.
I don’t know why I didn’t post it. Too raw maybe? It was from a time in my life when things were not so good.
It’s funny though, reading through the things that I wished would happen – they have, although, not with you, which I knew would be the case.
I think I’ll post it now.
