Confession

I haven't written much, if anything for the past fourteen years, I haven't felt much for maybe longer.
It wasn't until after my brother and his wife split, and he kept urging me to write again, that I did start writing again.

For me, writing is the expression of my emotions and thoughts, and I realized, I've been holding everything in, and writing again was like smashing a dam.
Everything came rushing out at once.
I became a mess.
I kept writing.

It's only been a month and a half and I'm sitting here with four notebooks and a bunch of random scraps of paper, and a black balled point pen.
I write a little here and there in each notebook, and still can't keep up, I've been holding everything in for fourteen plus years, and I missed writing.