I Still Believe

I used to believe that writing even one sentence at the end of the day was worth it, just to remember the joy I felt or something fun I did or an impression I’d had that gave me hope to keep going. Then I had some hard days. Oh, SOOO many hard days. Did I say days? I meant months. And years. And some excruciating moments I didn’t want to remember. So I stopped writing on those days. And soon I stopped writing on other days too. Part of me felt it was a lie to just write about the good times, even though noticing them had helped me stay positive in the past. But now, with how heavy things had been, since it didn’t seem to help or change anything or anyone, I stopped writing almost every day. But today I write again because even though the weight of the day almost broke me, inside something remembered what I used to believe.

Read More