I haven't written much here lately, and there are reasons. I'm ridiculously busy. I'm caught up in homeschooling the kids. The new job and all the babies and the moms I have been helping come before all this. My little one seems to have hand, foot and mouth now too. And there is a foot of snow outside.
I also haven't been writing much because I'm having a harder and harder time working myself up to it. The writing isn't the issue, the internet is. I've become even more jaded and cynical and I'm just really fucking tired of the people in the world with nothing better to do than to nitpick those of us who put ourselves out there.
I'm just tired of it.
I also ran past one of the shittier anniversary days in this year full of shitty anniversaries this week.
I cringe still this time of year, every year, when I'll be driving across town and see the black smoke go up in any proximity to my home. I know that it's just the farmers and the ranchers and the city workers burning ditches. I know. The rational parts of my brain know that it isn't anything dangerous, that it isn't indicative of anything near my home. I know these things, and still the alarm bells sound and the hairs on the back of my neck stand erect and alert.
The rational part of my brain doesn't always win.
It certainly doesn't win on beautiful March days with bright blue skies when black smoke suddenly appears.
That was the day that I knew.
The day that I knew that I couldn't make good on the promises I'd made.
The day that I knew that I couldn't save everyone.
The day that I knew that I couldn't rely on some people, that I couldn't trust others.
The day that I knew that I couldn't make it better.
The day that I knew that things were never going to be the same ever again.
The day that I knew.
The day that changed everything.
There are only a few days in my lifetime when I've been more angry and terrified at the same time as I was that day.
It was five years ago, now.
That day has come and gone.
That day was never as insignificant as it was made out to be. It was far bigger. And it's the reason I had to do what I had to do.
Someone will probably show up soon and tell me that I need to just get over it, that whatever it is that I'm vaguely referencing wasn't a big deal. They have no fucking idea what I'm talking about.
Someone will tell me I need to calm down.
Someone will tell me that I have issues.
Yes, it is in the past.
No, it's not happening now.
The sky tries to tell me otherwise, though.
And this is why I hardly write anymore.
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