I have been thinking of writing to a whole bunch of people that I have either let fall by the wayside, pushed away violently or neglected until they left. Not to apologize, actions show remorse, not words. I want to write to them to…well, I don’t know. I miss some of the inside jokes we had together, I miss ho some of them could be so fantastically awesome at something I was hopelessly inept at. I miss lunches and laughter, texts and smiles, even the occasional tear for one another when the times were at their worst for one, the other, or even both of us simultaneously.

My toxicity is well known to me and I have been working for quite some time to show the people in my life that I am not the person that I used to be and, while not necessarily better in every sense, I am a different person than they used to know.

Maye this is all because I have only had half a cup of coffee though. I suppose I’ll inhale a few more and see where my brain sits on things.

This is one of my least favorite times of the year, and not even because of the sad things.

I hate Halloween. I can talk to you about Samhain until you leave the room and hide like you just saw a Mormon on a bike bee-lining it to your house from down the road.

I hate Halloween and I refuse to change this stance because I have children. I don’t share that hatred with them, mocking the commercialism and the pettiness of it until they turn purple. No, if they want I buy them the costumes, buy the candy, the whole shebang. I just will participate as little as possible and still be an adult.

Well, this is all weird and pouty, I will go have some coffee and try this writing thing again later.


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