Sometimes I forget this blog exists. Until I get the 100th email for the spam comments. Then I dive back in.

More words. More words. More talking to myself.

But I’m starting to think that’s what it’s always been.

Not just this. But everything. Always.

Waiting for someone to notice. Waiting for someone to care. Waiting.

I am so sick of waiting.

So worried about whether anyone else sees me that I never stopped to question if I saw me.

Or maybe I was hoping they would tell me what they see.