I spend a lot of time reading other people’s words. Whether it’s emails at work, tweets on my timeline, blogs I love, or any of the 5 books that are currently resting on my nightstand… words surround me quite often. In print and on screens, when I want to read them and when I don’t want to read them. When they’re good and when they’re hard.
Last night, sitting on the red couch in my dimly lit home, I read the words of a girl who’s life has intertwined with mine at several different points. First in college, and then later as young adults living in Richmond. The story of her life has recently taken her to the other side of the continent, and we’d lost touch along the way.
It happens. Even if you don’t want it to, it happens.
She’s always had a way with words. And last night, the words she formulated, put on a page and published, were hard to read. My heart instantly traveled thousands of miles to her (I’m certain) beautifully decorated home, and my tears went right along with them. This woman, who I’d done a lot of life with over the years, was having to piece together feelings and emotions and real life into some letters on a page to convey her heart in a time of sadness. A time in life where words can comfort and heal, or sneak you back into painful crevasses and be tempted to leave you there. I see these words as healing. As a place of peace. Even if just for this moment.
I’m so glad she’s writing again. I’m encouraged by this dear girl to find my own voice again. Pain, heartache, and hard times look incredibly different for everyone, but bottling it up inside and not sharing the truth in who you are in all of it is more detrimental. She moved me.
Here’s to my radiant KEGL, and to finding her voice again. Press on, sweet love. It might be something to be found again and again and again with every new day that comes shining through your window, but you are not alone. It’s 1657.91 miles from my doorstep to yours, and my heart will travel that distance daily as you continue to find your voice. I’ll write as you write. A journey together, even though we’re far apart.