The Stretch

I spent the evening talking out a lot of stuff.

The word “stuff” is definitely a chosen word,

As I don’t know how to describe any discretion of my feelings .

It’s difficult & deep, mainly realisations of how I have made massive mistakes, mistakes that only I can actually acknowledge, but with that there are no excuses .

So my friend suggested I wrote a letter to myself, maybe this a letter.

I would think more it is a way of understanding myself, I just wrote that?? But I don’t believe I can understand, I think just process & what ?

I have not had a deep conversation like that in years really years.

Does it make changes ?

I again don’t know?

I needed to write, as it’s safe, there is no right or wrong, I just wrk& not over think.

I do have say .

I love my children.

My talk tonight came with a plate full of guilt.

I accept and it feels painful, I’m also writing this , with no huge information to share (yet) as the people I need to hug & talk with need that first.

I love writing , I love trying to make others understand that actually we all have things deep in are hearts.

We really do.

This a something- with no beginning or big ending.

It’s just I know that one of you w read this & it will mean something , I have had this space & it means something most of all to me