I do love writing. It’s cathartic, emotive, expressive, and when it’s done with honesty and sincerity, it can tear me down and build me up all at the same time. I used to write prolifically. I stopped for reasons I regret and resent, but reasons I also regard as my own failing to assert what was a critical need at the time as well. But I’m slowly working out of that mindset. And so, I head now down an old but familiar path of writing out some deeply personal feelings as I reflect on the arrival of a day I’ve long anticipated with dread and great apprehension. Due to its personal significance in my life.
