still have nothing to show

While all-nighters should not be the norm (and havent for a while, really), I love those really quite nights when you feel like you’ve accomplished something – finally. The quiet nights when I can listen to music, explore old blogs, and remind myself of why I am here doing homework on Acts at 3 A.M.

Somehow I plopped myself in front of the little diddy I wrote 8 months ago about me.

This time is never easy for me. I try to keep it all tightly wound – I ignore the truths of my heart, the pain gutted deep in my eyes. But for many, February is happy, lovey, cold, refreshing. For me? It is sad, dark, tainted. I have fond memories of specific events, for sure.

But, ultimately – it reminds me of my story. It reminds me of the dark parts of my story – I neglect the redemption for the week leading to it. I wish I had someone to share it with some days – I said it. Yup.

Oh well. I don’t. I’m here. On the couch, at 3 A.M. with a fan blowing to dry the carpet and the heat on for the first time in 3 years. It’s a mess. It’s a ironic mess – and yet, what really isn’t?

give it away – kate york


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