When someone says my words are too sad, I say, “look away, my words are not about you.” I tell them this is my life, my heart, my story. I refuse to edit it for anyone else to make it easier to swallow, or pretend it was happier. I’m not going to turn my heart into a piece of fiction to make sure you stay on your fluffy cloud of make believe. I am writing my heart. This is my journey and I am riding it out to the end. I am writing out the pain until I don’t need to anymore. This is me doing me. This is me writing my heart out, hoping maybe some of my words break into your heart just enough to make you stop and think. Or maybe just enough to let one person know they are not alone. Because I know what it’s like to walk a journey alone and feel as though no one in the world gets it. I know that walk. I am too familiar with the way it guts my insides and leaves me spilling out an emptiness that will never fill me. So, I write these words and yes, sometimes they are sad, sometimes they strike a chord that only plays negative to some ears. That’s when I say, don’t listen. Turn on a different song. Cover your ears if you must. I have to write this out to get it out. I have to write this pain out to write my heart in. This journey isn’t about you, but if it resonates, then please, walk with me. A journey is easier when someone is willing to hold your hand and say, I get it… I have been there. I do get it and I have been there… and I’m telling you now, I’d be happy to walk with you.