Divorce, Life Changes, Writing

Showing up and hoping words find me.

I used to write. Not a day passed that I didn’t create a piece of writing: long, wordy essays; stories, poems. I daydreamed in turns of phrase while loading the dishwasher; composed dialogue in my head while driving. I told myself stories, usually not the fictional sort, but real (if sometimes romanticized) stories about my life. About the choices I’ve…

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