I won't live your way
Won't hear what you say.
You know, five days away to get my head on straight and indulge in three differently wonderful kinds of therapy isn't always a bad thing. Getting a better handle on my emotions won't be a bad thing, and us flinging the usual fed-up ultimatums at each other tends to be the best catalyst in the world to make me move.
Because Nothing in the world could fail me now. It's tattooed on my skin. It means something to me.
I'm wonderfully fixable. Eventually.
In the meantime, don't believe a word I say, and for gosh sake's don't be surprised at my largely inappropriate behavior. Those of you long ago who sent me long letters telling me I was a certain way, well, let's just say I'm a little freaked out that the internet had me pegged long before the professionals who were close but not close enough.
More later, I'm a little hesitant today. Even though I need to get a lot of these words out, it's going to take a little bit. It's going to take even longer to get through these emails. How many of you are there? I am floored. Thank you.
I need some Jacob time now. I haven't seen him and he's home and I need to not let go of him for a little while. I'll be back.
