I’ve been gone for a long time. Writing had become too hard for me. Admitting my failures, being too honest with my hopes and wishes, letting too many people into my heart, allowing others to see the hurt I was experiencing with the death of my sister, knowing that I had opened up with everyone — all those things became overwhelming. So, I disappeared. I crawled back into my hole — that hole that was safe, where no one could reach me. And I stayed there. For far too long.
I’ve tried to crawl back out for the past few months, but each time I took another step on the ladder, I’d doubt myself. Did I really need to crawl out or should I just accept life as I had allowed it to become? I’m still not sure about the answer to that one, but I figure I’ll make another attempt at reaching the top.