Tag Archives: letting go

G is for Goodbye

Apr 7, 2018 | Posted by in A-Z Blogging Challenge, Life Before | 2

“Goodbye Norma Jean,” in particular. Why that? Well. Let me tell you. I’d been flailing about for a few days, reaching for, and never quite finding, a good “G” word. Of course there is “Gratitude.” And that is always an important one for me to muse on, to internalize, to write and think about. But…every other word so far has felt like…inspiration. A gift, urging me to write, in a time when writing hasn’t been a thing. How do I explain it, when a thing is so important to you…when it’s such an integral part of you that imagining it gone is inconceivable…and then it is. Gone. Just like that. A neat, precise incision cut out of your very center, like with an apple corer. A hole punched in you. That was how my writing has been for me. Until just these last few days. I don’t know what itRead more …

Just Because I Feel Like Writing

Jan 11, 2018 | Posted by in Being Poly, Everyday Jade | 1

I don’t have a theme to this post, or anything in particular I need to get off my chest, to work through, to say. I’m just feeling…chatty, I guess, feeling like nattering on about inconsequential things, something I haven’t done here in quite awhile. Sometimes it seems like everything I write here has to be “Important” with a capital “I”, or that I am so bound up in things that are happening and desperate to walk my way through them in writing (because that’s how I work things out best) that everything I write is heavy with the weight of its own significance (at least to me.) But tonight…no, I just feel like writing. I was so inspired I couldn’t even wait until I got home (though once here I did do two hours of homework before I allowed myself blog time.) Here is what I “wrote” via voice whileRead more …

Take Two

Mar 22, 2016 | Posted by in Everyday Jade, Life Before | 7

I have been working on a long, depressing blog post for more than a month. This month marks a year since The Thing That Happened Last February. February 28th marks the last time I saw him alive, though he lived – hidden by his family from me – for another 23 days. It’s been a rough two months. I’ve written words about it these two months. Many of them, in fact. I’ve written words and cried tears and written more words. I’ve tried to write about other things, but those are the only words I’ve managed to write. And while I’ve done that, while I’ve struggled to make sense of a world that felt like it stopped in February of last year, the world has proved me wrong, and gone on. February is just another month, as is March. Warren was just another person who died. Lots of people diedRead more …