From the inbox.

From her, whose writing I have missed.

...life settles in all sorts of patterns, screwy squiggles too (but those are the most "aww-inducingly" fascinating ones, no?). And, sometimes we just forget that we knew we were/"obviously-would-have-been" okay as the soft grey of the pencil danced crazy on that sheet of paper.

...the kind that makes you wonder if you'll ever be able to count all the stars. But one that comforts you with the thought that, look, I've already got 111,28790 stars logged in my notebook. It suddenly stealthily also unties one from the moorings she held on to. It's scary and its bracing. It's bracing because its so scary. And the other way, too.