Something I've noticed about myself is that, when under a great deal of stress, I seem to get creative. Well, creative for me. The Journal, for example. And some drawings. Here is one:

This, quite literally, got drawn. I don't know where it came from, but here is it. I was in a class that encouraged deep contemplation/awareness:

The caption reads:

         tendrils of experience and affection: memories are made of this.

C has been around quite a bit lately, as has G. I don't care much about seeing him. But it's amazing how my body - bone deep - still reacts to seeing her. My stomach drops, my heart and my Heart sink, my breathing gets shallow. I stop in my tracks, hand to my tummy. Turning in circles. Looking for a way out. An Escape Route, as one friend says. Looking for safety. Looking for R. 

From the start - from that horrible evening - we have been a unified front. Seems really strange to say what with R chipping away at all I held dear for all those days/weeks/months. But we've been closer than ever, ever since!

I'm aware I haven't posted in quite some time. In fact I began this about a month ago. When I think about continuing, I feel overwhelmed. Until, that is, I remember there is no requirement for quantity. 

It does me a world of good to 'put it out there.' I feel cleansed in a way. Still hoping it helps someone else.