It’s 2:37 in the morning.
I’m relaxed and content.
Tim McGraw, Taylor Swift, and Eric Church have been my only companions for the last few hours.
My mug is begging to be refilled with cookies ‘n cream ice cream but I resist.
There is no noise. At all. Whatsoever. And it’s awesome…
My soul can finally unravel and work out all the knots.
Sometimes I just need to stop everything and recharge.
Because breathing and scrapbooking – they go together. It’s called therapy. And since Cruz dropped out of the presidential race yesterday, I’m going to need a lot of it.
This is the first page I’ve created in probably a year. Because unless one stays up during all hours of the night, who has time to scrapbook?!
It felt good to create again.
To make something lovely.
To pour out my heart and sort through the thoughts and emotions that come as a result of a deeply broken marriage.
But now I’ll go to bed.
And get up in about, um, four hours.
And likely regret this entire desperate me time.
Tomorrow…if you see me with wild hair and bloodshot eyes, walking into walls, it’s just me.