Oh, oh, oh... so much pain and so so so sad. This broke you and breaks me now. I can only send you positive thoughts and my hope that all this time later you can somehow be whole again and you and somehow happier. Somehow. xx
Thank you Douglas. I figure we all crack in unique ways. Such kind and thoughtful comments.
I am grateful for the love and light of my own children, young adults now, who have allowed me to repair myself into something better than before. I write to show myself the journey and marvel at the strength and resilience of my own inner child, as with everything though, in order to see the light, we must first experience the darkness.
Thank you once again for reading. I am genuinely grateful that you, a writer whom I really admire, took the time to read and respond.
Ann, this is extraordinary. The imagery in Pieces,“just to the left of loneliness,” “the gap it leaves is jagged”,landed with such quiet, poetic force. You’ve captured a kind of devastation that’s both deeply personal and universally felt. That closing stanza, “But the wicked deeds of others, tore it open with its sting,” was quietly shattering in its simplicity and truth.
Thank you for sharing something so raw with such strength and grace. Your voice carries power, and I’m deeply moved by how you give shape to pain so many carry in silence. ❤️✨️🫶🏻
Thank you for taking the time to read and respond with such love and kindness. It is deeply personal and I am grateful that it landed with you first. Your response has quietly stilled my soul from the desire to run from myself.
I am softly accepting your thoughts on my story as it moves through some difficult moments. There is light to come but first we must proceed through the darkness.
My pleasure, Ann. I’m truly humbled that my words offered even a moment of stillness for you. The way you’re moving through this story with such openness and honesty is incredibly powerful. I believe you when you say there is light to come, and the way you’re shaping the darkness into something meaningful already feels like part of that light. Holding space for whatever unfolds next. 💛
Oh, oh, oh... so much pain and so so so sad. This broke you and breaks me now. I can only send you positive thoughts and my hope that all this time later you can somehow be whole again and you and somehow happier. Somehow. xx
Thank you Douglas. I figure we all crack in unique ways. Such kind and thoughtful comments.
I am grateful for the love and light of my own children, young adults now, who have allowed me to repair myself into something better than before. I write to show myself the journey and marvel at the strength and resilience of my own inner child, as with everything though, in order to see the light, we must first experience the darkness.
Thank you once again for reading. I am genuinely grateful that you, a writer whom I really admire, took the time to read and respond.
🦋
Ann, this is extraordinary. The imagery in Pieces,“just to the left of loneliness,” “the gap it leaves is jagged”,landed with such quiet, poetic force. You’ve captured a kind of devastation that’s both deeply personal and universally felt. That closing stanza, “But the wicked deeds of others, tore it open with its sting,” was quietly shattering in its simplicity and truth.
Thank you for sharing something so raw with such strength and grace. Your voice carries power, and I’m deeply moved by how you give shape to pain so many carry in silence. ❤️✨️🫶🏻
Thank you for taking the time to read and respond with such love and kindness. It is deeply personal and I am grateful that it landed with you first. Your response has quietly stilled my soul from the desire to run from myself.
I am softly accepting your thoughts on my story as it moves through some difficult moments. There is light to come but first we must proceed through the darkness.
🦋
My pleasure, Ann. I’m truly humbled that my words offered even a moment of stillness for you. The way you’re moving through this story with such openness and honesty is incredibly powerful. I believe you when you say there is light to come, and the way you’re shaping the darkness into something meaningful already feels like part of that light. Holding space for whatever unfolds next. 💛