More workshop feels.
First of all, Mr. S had signed my notebook. Today I was sitting with it on my lap...I get up after a couple hours and Mr. S's (and Mrs. S's too actually) signature was imprinted on my leg.
Well. This is awkward.
In other new, Come Thou Fount just keeps running through my head over and over, mixed with Lovebug (Keely) and a variety of Disney songs. And it hurts.
I already miss that time of worship so much.
I have a big scrape on my foot from kneeling for so long on the concrete outside the Bell center.
I miss you guys. I miss you so much. I'm sorry to keep dumping feels.
But this is my last chance, at least for a while, to do it.
I'm so sad. Love y'all so much. I feel like I have this massive ache inside me that's way too big and way too small all at once.
I just. I want to be in an evening session right now, curled up next to Jacki, cracking hushed jokes and waiting restlessly to get outside and dance around under the stars.
But instead I'm at home. Hugging a pillow. Because pillows don't ask questions when you cry on them.
-Hillary Mitchell
No comments:
Post a Comment