July and everything after
I drove and drove into the night to get us here faster, leaving no time to write (here).
I soaked up the time with my love, with our families, leaving no time to write (here).
I read and responded and wrote on social media, leaving no time to write (here).
The truth is, I'm always writing, even when I'm not writing here.
The truth is, I'm always writing, except when I'm not writing, here or anywhere.
The truth is, this summer has been magical and hard and amazing and painful. All. Together. As I knew it would be. And in different ways than I thought, but also the ones I had expected, too.
I drove and drove to get to my love and now I will do it all over again in reverse.
(This time, a different route. This time, no need to rush. This time, home at the end.)