I love it.
Words accumulate. Words from this, start mixing with words from that, and you're left with a big pile of mush that wants to escape, with no holes or cracks to ooze out of.
Words are there, they are ready to be written, but something holds them back...worries. Worries of seeing the truth. Worries of saying too much. Worries of what one, or many, might think.
Even if most times the words just come, it's those other times that get me.
Right now, there is a little bit of all of it.
He told me I could have time everyday to write, but, the thing is, it's working out so well this way. I'm getting more done. I'm more focused on the things I need to be focused on. He isn't upset with me when he sees me on here...
There is so much I want to say though! I've tried to go off a million different ways on this post... Sigh.
Writing in a journal just isn't the same. I don't get a release, like I do when I write here. It feels like I'm talking to myself, and I do that enough as it is.
I am trying to talk a little more--I think that's because I don't have any other way to get it out. I asked him the other day if he likes me this way (needy and emotional), which got us talking about other things, and I even got my thoughts across without saying something stupid!
I think, with a little more time, I will get better at doing what needs to be done around here, which will open me up to write more. And reply to comments in a more timely matter.
On a side note...I got something in the mail today (grins). The kids were so excited to open the box, you can imagine their disappointment when I told them it was for me. *evil laugh*