It’s just a question, right.
But think about it.
How the hell did IT get like this?
Too much of everything, including the brokenheartedness.
Right now I’m wrestling again with the dilemma of how best to use the rest of my days.
No small thing.
It feels as if I want to reach down, in a screaming fit of hysteria and re-examine everything, including all those stories that I swallowed without demur only to find myself coughing up greats gobs of anxious self-doubt.
Instead, though, I’m going to sit with the question:
How did it get like this?
Do you have a question (or two) that keeps rolling around in the dark recesses of your psyche, disturbing every waking hour? Perhaps it’s not the answer that’s important but the presence to with sit it — forever if necessary.