I've been planning to write this morning. Planning and planning but not doing it. And maybe I won't. At least, not right now. Inside, outside, and inside again. Wanting to share, wanting to be very quiet. Most of all, wanting to be very gentle with myself. The fullness of self-indulgence and maybe self-pity. But no stiff lips or pulling myself up by the boot straps today.
A few calls. Messages from dear ones. At each entry into my solitude, tears spring to my eyes. So very expected.