Healing is a strange sensation. I imagine it is quite different for every person who experiences it, because it’s both unique people with their own perspective, and no two people are hurt in the same way. Where yesterday was an open admission of what lay beneath the buried trauma of my early adulthood, today was the lifting of an immense weight from my chest and head. It’s like a flowing from me, not a surge but a trickle away of so much baggage, so many regrets, and so much I wish I could have done differently. It’s also an acceptance that so long as I live and breathe, there are only theoretical limits to what I can achieve. And those limits are mailable; they grow as I take on new opportunities.
HOF is good, but I only wrote 149 words of it today. It might be that I break my chain of a thousand words of main story content today, as I hit target writing 883 words of a very different document. I cannot know what will come of that, but I can dream. It’s nice to dream again.
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