charlatan

I wrote you a letter today and filed it away. It felt good to get the words out, even if they will never be seen by anyone other than myself. Two years of words flooding out of my thoughts and dreams, spilling over the screen in front of me that rolled out like a long wistful sigh. It was as if I was telling someone and sharing what has weighed heavy in my heart for so long. Like I finally had a confidant to share this with, to ask advice from or to vent to when the ache feels overwhelming. It made me feel less alone, as if typing those words made them more real; making those feelings more manageable. Someone to share with without fear of judgement or reprisal. Someone that I didn't have to burden with my inner monologue. It was worth every second I put into it. Every weighed decision as I chose word after word, capturing what was inside. It felt good to get the words out. Every single heartfelt one.