Going back to a blank slate

I’m starting to answer the calling and longing to write again. I’ve denied myself of it for fear that someone I know will be part of the experience I’m writing about and be offended, upset or hurt by me. But writing used to be my outlet.

The only problem was that before, I was writing to an audience. Whether it was just my grandma reading it or hundreds of others, it was for someone. But this writing now is for me to express and process. Also to document my life. I don’t want to forget the things in my life that are happening right now. There is space to document through pictures and a cutesie caption on social media. But social media isn’t what it used to be and I can’t handle it anymore. It doesn’t serve me well and takes me away from the present.

The present is so precious. I swear I’m going to blink and my boys are going to be so big. I miss them even when they’re sleeping in the room over. I don’t want to miss a second of my time with them.

So I want to start writing again. I don’t feel like being witty or funny. At least not right now. Maybe I will sometimes. But not now. Right now I feel heavy. And like I have so much that I want to write down.

This is enough to start. It feels effortless and like I’m releasing something that I won’t want to stop.

Jesus, talk to me through this. Meet me in this space.