This time of year I am usually six feet deep in my own melancholy.
Buried heavily under the burden of memory, of remorse, of guilt, of all the confusion that comes with it. I’m probably jinxing myself, if you believe in that sort of thing. I do.
Of course I do.
I told a friend recently that I was so suprised by how sad I wasn’t. She told me to enjoy it while it’s away. I’m trying.
30-something Mississippi queer. Bleeding heart with a soft spot for honesty and oversharing. Conquering corporate America and my own insecurities– one day at a time.