Do you ever get that feeling like you’re missing something? Like everything would be perfect if you just had it? If you just understood what it was you needed. Sometimes I feel like this. I can’t think of anything else to do, but write. I think that’s why I’m writing now. Lately I feel like putting my words on a blank page has helped me. It’s an open safe space where I can say anything and do anything. It’s freeing.
People ask me why I started this blog. I didn’t have an answer then, but I think I’ve always needed to write. In a journal or typing on my laptop or just writing down a thought on a post-it note (I used to have a post-it note wall in my room).
I just write, like now. It’s not beautiful or well put together and usually not grammatically correct, but it’s real. And I like that it’s raw. It’s every thought I’m thinking laid out on a piece of paper for you and I to read.
I hope when you read this and my personal blog posts you realize how vulnerable I feel. I hope you understand that when I release my words to you, you’ll be careful with what you read. Because you’re reading my most intimate thoughts. You’re reading and holding on to the most delicate pieces of me. I will try to write honestly and true. All that I ask is that you’re careful with me.