ABOUT TWO YEARS into my big sky life, a friend expressed great concern for my mental and physical well-being. She was worried I wouldn’t survive the stress of living in a place that appeared to be killing me and strongly recommended that I keep a personal journal in the hope that it would serve as a healthy outlet for my compounding failures and compressed emotions. To keep her suggestion on the lighter side, she jokingly added, “Who knows? You might even write a book about it.”
The joke was on me because, as evidenced by what you’re now reading, she was right - even if it did take more than a decade of time and space for the wounds to scar over enough for me to see the comedy in the situation, let alone write about it.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.