She said that she’s worried about me; that I seem like I’m sad in my life.
In many ways, I suppose I can see that. I do write a great deal of poetry and observations on my blog that, at first glance, would appear depressed and sad. I consider myself to be a fairly balanced person. Someone who can roll with the punches, as it were, and work through the problems that I’m faced with.
I’ve seen a lot of sadness in my life, but that doesn’t make me special. Perhaps a bit more haunted than most, but not necessarily sad. I explained that I’m usually not sad, and it’s because of the writing I do, and not in spite of it. It’s a release, a way to send all that negative thought out and away. A way to take the load of the world, and place it squarely on pen and paper.
Even still… I was touched that she cared about me. It’s wonderful having people in my life that care about how I’m doing.