I don't feel like writing...

I don't feel like writing.

I don't feel like sharing, yet I feel like sharing. I don't feel like wallowing, yet I feel like wallowing. I don't feel like exposing, yet I feel like exposing.

You see? I don't feel like writing. Yet I feel like writing.

I wish I could hug him. I wish I could wrap my arms around his neck. His embrace tells me EVERY TIME...that it is going to be alright. His warmth, his heart, his kiss reassures me every-single-time.

But here's where the I don't feel like writing comes in.

I can't wallow. I can't wish. I can't long for. I can't miss.

Cause I have Georgia. I have our gift. I have our blessing. I have our most recent joy.

There are all these topics to write about that come to mind during this time, but when I think about publishing - I think PETTY. I think selfish.

If this exercise is to teach me anything - it's to reinforce this most definitely isn't about me. And unlike last time, it isn't about Bill either. It's about Georgia.

It's the laughs and the giggles, the carrots in her hair, the expressions, the feeding the dogs when I tell her not to...that keep me focused. And it's the rocking her to sleep, with her head on my shoulder that reminds me...

I don't feel like writing right now.  Not right now.