Writing about you is the hardest thing I've done since getting used to living without you. I'm writing this book and it's supposed to be about our lives together and how one day you died and I had to continue on my own. I've been longing to write this for years but I keep making excuses why not to. Timing hasn't been right, too busy, too distracted. But I'm writing now. My editor convinced me and honestly, if it wasn't for her I could have put this off forever. So now I have this book deal and a deadline and I'm pushed to continue forward. I've been writing and writing but I'm realizing now I've haven't been writing at all. I told myself I have to bring context to the story so I've written about the periphery. I've been telling myself I'm "leading up" to you but fact of the matter is, I'm not. I've been dancing around the core of this story. Truth is... I'm terrified. I'm scared shitless. Writing about you is stepping back into a time I barely survived and I'm not sure I'll be able to handle that. It's picking at a wound I've spent the past three years hiding, carefully keeping in the shadows. But wounds don't heal in the dark. And the timing right now is what it is for a reason: my due date is the same week as the anniversary of your death. 3 years ago today we were dancing at the festival. Facebook has given me a memory of you every day this week. A part of me knows I'm meant to put this pain on paper now because this birth and death are the beginning and the end at the same time. Poppy is arriving to bring light into it all. She knows you. You know her. You're one and the same. I wrote in my birth plan that I have printed and put on the fridge; "if things get dark, ask Andrea for help" because I know you'll be there every step of the way. Poppy is almost here the way you are but you're also not and the time to write and heal and feel is now. So here I am, my computer on my lap, a blank page in front of me. My fingers tremble over the keyboard. I take a deep breath and I start typing and the words flow and all of a sudden there you are. Here you are. You're right here. I'm writing and you're here and Poppy is kicking and I can't stop crying

yoga_girlさん(@yoga_girl)が投稿した動画 -

レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 2月25日 03時58分


Writing about you is the hardest thing I've done since getting used to living without you. I'm writing this book and it's supposed to be about our lives together and how one day you died and I had to continue on my own. I've been longing to write this for years but I keep making excuses why not to. Timing hasn't been right, too busy, too distracted. But I'm writing now. My editor convinced me and honestly, if it wasn't for her I could have put this off forever. So now I have this book deal and a deadline and I'm pushed to continue forward. I've been writing and writing but I'm realizing now I've haven't been writing at all. I told myself I have to bring context to the story so I've written about the periphery. I've been telling myself I'm "leading up" to you but fact of the matter is, I'm not. I've been dancing around the core of this story. Truth is... I'm terrified. I'm scared shitless. Writing about you is stepping back into a time I barely survived and I'm not sure I'll be able to handle that. It's picking at a wound I've spent the past three years hiding, carefully keeping in the shadows. But wounds don't heal in the dark. And the timing right now is what it is for a reason: my due date is the same week as the anniversary of your death. 3 years ago today we were dancing at the festival. Facebook has given me a memory of you every day this week. A part of me knows I'm meant to put this pain on paper now because this birth and death are the beginning and the end at the same time. Poppy is arriving to bring light into it all. She knows you. You know her. You're one and the same.
I wrote in my birth plan that I have printed and put on the fridge; "if things get dark, ask Andrea for help" because I know you'll be there every step of the way. Poppy is almost here the way you are but you're also not and the time to write and heal and feel is now.
So here I am, my computer on my lap, a blank page in front of me. My fingers tremble over the keyboard. I take a deep breath and I start typing and the words flow and all of a sudden
there you are. Here you are. You're right here. I'm writing and you're here and Poppy is kicking and I can't
stop
crying


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