Yesterday, I made myself cry while I was writing, and today I picked up from where I left off, and dammit, made myself cry again.
It’s happy stuff, but about real things long lost, long gone, irretrievable now…
And while I can feel the joy my characters are experiencing in this brief respite before things get bad again, and then get really bad (because I could imagine what it would have been like to be my main character) I never got to experience the couple of beautiful moments she got to live through today.
Life is made of soft warm spaces that buffer over and occasionally soften the inescapable sharp points tucked away beneath.
Today, I got to focus on the soft warm spaces, and I’m glad I did.
Tomorrow, it’s back to the pointy bits.
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