Handwritten Journal
On the last day of 2013, I reflected on a year of emotional tides, professional strides, and lifestyle changes in their wakes. New vehicle. New apartment. New adventures. New hobby.
Old habits, however, remained.
Denial of a broken and suffering heart was futilely staved off by weak and compensatory words. These same meager defenses did all they could to help me avoid the fact that life at home was nowhere near the perfect picture I wanted it to be. It would get worse. I wasn’t prepared for it. I wasn’t prepared for what 2014 had in store for me.
I was blissfully ignorant.
