I needed a space to write. Writing purges my emotions and my thoughts and gives me a feeling of contentment. I could be writing in a journal, but I love the feeling of a keyboard beneath my fingertips. I will attempt to write as honestly as possible to keep this blog real. I have attempted to blog before and been caught up with the desire to add all kinds of fun little elements to it instead of just focusing on writing.
“Here I go again, on my own.” Just typing that brings me back to the days of tire swings and gravel fights during recess. We sang that song loudly and brazenly as we ran around, pretty much unsupervised from what I remember. Those were some of the best days. Although if you would have met me then, I would probably talk about how I wanted to grow up and do all kinds of big person things. Funny how that always seems to happen. You won’t find me wishing to grow up now, although I do often get impatient for the future. Does this mean that I am also wishing I could get older? If only one could happen without the other. For example, I want to move badly, so I often think ahead to April and the chance that we will have to head over to a more desirable neighborhood. When this happens, I will be two months older. Two months sure doesn’t seem like much, but they all add up and before you know it you are all wrinkly and old and your teeth are falling out and all of your foods are mush. I don’t want to eat mushy food. Unless it is mashed potatoes. I really love mashed potatoes.