What I really meant to write about was love and loss and the state of being alone when every pore of me craves for the other - the other who was almost mine but not quite. Until, then some things else.
I am recovering from heart break. I realize after five years of love-lessness and single-motherhood later, I am still capable of being heart-broken. I had thought I was over all that. Not quite. I was caught off-guard and I suffered royally for it.
I sought succor in the most obvious place self-affirming chick lit and am not ashamed to admit that it worked somewhat - even temporal is good when you are feeling ultimately miserable. I promised myself that I would bounce back - be good as new. That is a work in progress. I will tell my story in it's entirety once I feel healed and whole.
crossings as in traversals, contradictions, counterpoints of the heart though often not..
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