A Change of Heart

Earlier, I posted a piece entitled "Apparently It's Valentine's Day". I sure hope no one saw it.

To anyone who might have done, on the off chance you're still talking to me, please accept my apologies. We animals do funny things when we're in pain. We lash out often as a way of reaching out.

Writing the essay was enormously therapeutic for me, because those words had been swirling around inside my head for nearly a week when I finally let them out. Last night I had a terrible headache and the chills, so I went to bed early; the first thing I did when I woke up this morning was get up and write that, even before I'd visited the littlest room.

Now, I will not apologise for the piece, only for the misuse of my intention in placing it here on my blog. It should not have seen the light of day; I sincerely hope it didn't.

It's our wounds that make us feel alive, which may be why they are so often self-inflicted. Unfortunately, it's our wounds that also kill us, and so we must nurse them. Within this cycle, though, there's enough power to break it.

Each time we heal it is imperative that we heal better than we were before we broke, until we no longer hurt ourselves or others.

Also, I really need to lighten up.
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