A queasy feeling...
Could it be?
Woah! Yep.... There it is.... Pregnant.
Lots of thoughts.  Are we ready for this again?
Can we do this financially? Really, Lord? Oh, My gosh! Another Baby! My heart is so full!
I'm freaking out! What the holy heck are we going to do? Well... Eden has been wanting a bunk bed... good timing, eh?
{just rest. just breath.}
{Choose. Joy.}
1st Doctor Appointment: 7 weeks. The plan.
Lots of monitoring later on.  Going to play if safe.  Another Subchorionic Hemorrhage.  What if something happens?
Should we even get excited? This is really happening! There's really a baby in there.  Oh, My gosh! Our Baby!
When should we schedule our appointments?
Will insurance cover everything?
{just rest. just breath.}
{Choose. Joy}
An Unsettling Feeling: 10 Weeks I feel good.
Shouldn't I feel sick?!
What if something's wrong? I should call the doctor!
I'm not spotting. I'm not cramping.  Just be happy I'm feeling okay.
Oohhh... maybe this means it's a boy?!
This baby is going to be such an adventure! Share news with friends and family!
Yay!
{Resting. Breathing}

{Joy.}
A Queasy Feeling: 11 weeks.
I don't feel so good!
What if something is wrong?!
That's silly... I'm SUPPOSED to feel sick, duh!
Oy. This headache is rough!
People are excited for this baby!
I can't wait to make sure everything is okay.
I just want this baby to be well.  I don't want to lose another baby.
We're going to be fine.

{just rest. just breath.}
A Dreadful Feeling:
11 Weeks 4 days.
Midnight... Uhg. Gotta Pee.
Hey! That's a good thing! Wait, what's that? Spotting.  Oh no! This can't be happening.  Just calm down.
Call the doctor.
It's fine. Probably just the SCH. Text a few friends.
Please Pray.
Why isn't the doctor calling back?! Just try to sleep.
6am.
No more spotting.
Phew! False alarm.
Well... call the doctor again... just in case...
Everything's going to be okay.
Going in soon to check on this sweet baby.  7am.
Gotta Pee...
Oh no... that's a lot. No!
This can't be happening.
Call again.
Going in NOW. 9am.
Waiting.
Of course.
Don't they know I'm FREAKING out?!
COME ON!
Here we go.
Ultrasound.
"I'm going to go talk with the physician..."
No!!!
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no...
No, Lord. Not this!
Not Now.
I knew it.
I shouldn't have gotten excited about this.  I'm so stupid.  "Hi Jess... I'm so sorry..."
Don't. Just don't say anymore!
"Missed Miscarriage"
I can't breath.  "You have options"
I want to get out of here.
"We can go about this anyway you'd like..."
Shit. Shit. Shit.

{just. rest. just. breath.}

{joy. ha.}
A Painful Feeling:
1:30pm.
Administer medication.
I really just have to sit here and wait.
They're just going to take my baby away.
I should really go get a concealed weapon permit for my uterus...
It's time.
This sucks.
It sucks. It sucks. It sucks. It sucks.
Ow.
Wait... the pain meds really aren't working that well...
This really freaking hurts.
"It's taking a bit more effort than we expected..."
Oh Great!
No Big.
Just my lady bits you're jacking up.
"Okay, we're all done."
Woah... I feel weird.
A Fuzzy Feeling:
4:00... maybe?
Basically I don't remember anything after I wheeled out of the procedure room.
I think they said I can't drive...
I gotta call my boss.
"Check up in two weeks."
"Should have a pathology report..."
Where am I? Man It is cold.
Oh, there's Eden.
My sweet girl.
Wait, Who has Lydia?
Where is she?!
She hasn't nursed all day! My poor girl!
Ahhh... my bed.
I gotta pee...
When did I get home?! Oh... yeah.
I just had a miscarriage...
Shit. My baby is gone.
Another one. 2 for 4. I have to tell everyone we sent Christmas cards to.
Merry frickin' Christmas... Wait, I already did?

I'm hungry. Food sounds disgusting.  Why is this happening?!
Why this, Lord? Why now? What good can come from this?!
{just. rest. just. breath.}
{you can be sad.} {but choose joy.}

I feel so peaceful.
Ugh. My body hurts.
How long is this part going to last? Just more reminders, I guess.
I have a lot of work to get done!
I know they said not to worry about it...
But I really should get it done.
I mean... I'm fine.
Ow... maybe not.
Ugh...
This sucks. 
{just rest. just breath.}



There's not rhyme or reason to what has gone through my head in the last two months.
I truly couldn't explain better than all that ^^^ garbage jumbled up and barfed out.
But through all of this... the Lord has given me a strange peace.
I almost feel stupid.
I feel confused.
Sometimes I've found my self forgetting that I'm not pregnant anymore... {I know it's only been 2 days}
But it's been the longest week.

Anxiety truly took the best of me and it stole so. much. joy.  I feared so much for the 7 short weeks that I knew I was pregnant.
Why? Why do we let that happen?
I wasted so much time I could have spent enjoying the life growing inside of me
on worthless worry that got me what?
Another baby I'll never get to hold.
So I'm sure you're asking...
"Why joy?!"

Believe me... I ask the same thing... a lot!

Joy, not to be confused with happiness, is really a great relief to ones sorrow.
To be truly joyful, we find delight.
To find delight, we seek something that will fully satisfy us.
For some, satisfaction comes in wealth, addiction, materialism...
For me, I've found my delight in resting in the Lord.
I know many people call me crazy.
But when you've been carried through hell and back again by the Jesus that I know...
There is no doubt.
When your greatest, deepest fears are made real and you can lift your heavy, weary head to breath life, still... My Hope is in the Lord.
My Delight is in the Lord.
It doesn't make sense. It doesn't have to.  It doesn't make the present hurt any less...
But it does bring  {joy}
{delight}
{true, complete, satisfaction}
I can't get time back.
I can't bring back the babies I've lost. But I can look on with hope to a time where there will be no more tears. No more pain.
No more anxiety. No more worry. 
A time where I will know my babies in the fullness that God intended them.  I will come along side them and rejoice in the goodness of our God. 
And for that hope... I must {choose. joy}

Psalm 84:10...
Better is one day in your courts, than a thousand elsewhere...

I cannot wait for that day. 

Today I stumbled across a feed that boasted the title
"Kim K's Butt Inspired So Many Meme's"

Uhhhmmm...
{ew.}
I didn't click on it because I really could care less about a photoshopped toosh on a woman who clearly has no respect for herself, her husband, or her children. 
{yeah... gloves are off.}
We live in a society where women yell and scream that they're mistreated.
We live in a society where dress codes are "unfair".
We live in a society where women pose "tastefully nude" to show that all women are sexy no matter their shape or size. 
We live a society where rape is an EPIDEMIC. 
We live in a society where {male OR female} people just can't seem to control themselves and their sexual appetite and it's seen as an illness. 
We live in a society where young women STARVE themselves to be accepted and loved.
YET...
We applaud, publicize, and CHEER for a woman who gets all kinds of greased up and shows off her uncomfortably un-proportionate rear end. 
We make humor of it even. 
Her HUSBAND has the audacity to tweet "All Day" in response to his wife's exposed to the word butt!
Uhm... {What?!}
We then wonder why young people seem so unsettled in marriage once "reality" sets in. No guys, sorry... your wife probably doesn't have a booty the size of two pro-level basket balls.
No girls, sorry... your husband probably doesn't have a 12 pack hiding under his shirt.
We need to understand that our over sexed culture has taught us ONE thing... "If what you have isn't "enough" get something better to satisfy you"
I'm embarrassed to be a human some days.
Today... I'm embarrassed to share a genetic make up with Kim. K.


If being a mother to two girls has taught me ONE thing it's that I want them to live with dignity.
Their bodies are precious.
Their bodies are to be protected.
Their bodies are perfectly made.
Their bodies need NO approval from anyone.

The moment we stop looking at people like Kim K. as role models and rather see them for what they are...
People. Struggling.
We will begin to see reality more clearly. We will have expectations that aren't un-reachable.  We will appreciate what is before us and truly love ourselves and one another. 
The moment we refuse to accept complete and utter depravity as an effort to "embrace beauty" is the moment we'll see true beauty. 
The moment we stop letting the internet teach our children what love is... The moment we stop letting the internet teach our children what sex is... The moment we STOP LETTING THE INTERNET TEACH OUR CHILDREN...
Then. And ONLY then. Will we see a change in our society. 
Until then...  greased up buns win and our children get thrown into the vicious cycle that is pop culture. 
The world that says...  Unless you have lots of money, a "perfect" body, and you're willing to show it off... You're nothing. 
Today... as a culture... the ball is in our court.
Our response DOES matter...
What's your move?

Have you ever been in a situation where you and a friend or loved one have had an argument and you're trying to figure things out and you feel like your words are going in one ear and out the other?
You say, "When you did ___ I felt ___" and they say, "Well... you shouldn't have ___" and you say, "You're not listening when I say ___"
and then the cycle perpetuates into madness.
OR
Have you ever been in a situation where you and a friend or loved one have had an argument and you're trying to figure things out and you feel like your words are going in one ear and out the other? {see what I did there?}
You say, "I'm really sorry... I shouldn't have ___" and they say,  "No, no, no, it was my fault I shouldn't have ___"
and you say,  "No, really it was ME!"
and they say, "Seriously though... I was the bozo!" and then the cycle perpetuates into madness.
In both situations the same thing is happening. The {Me Monster} comes out. The self focused desire to be right {or wrong} is what drives us.  Often times there's really no regard for the other person at all. We want to be "est" of the situation at all costs. The Right"est"
The Wrong"est" {Ya get what I'm sayin'?)
We'll go to far lengths to have the last word. Even if that means painting a horrible picture of ourselves. Because maybe... juuuussst maybe... we'll get that person's sympathy. We'll get more
{Me}
time out of it.
I've found this often happens with the people we love the most. Those closest to us. The one's we're supposed to protect and love and sacrifice for. {Sure, I'll throw myself in front of a bus for you} {but give you more focus time than me? Psshh! Forget that!}
Oh we humans are whacky little creatures I tell ya...
John 15:13 "Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends"

Probably wouldn't have had the same impact if Jesus would have been like "Hey guys, I'm going to be beaten, ridiculed, crucified and die... But first lemme take a selfie!"
Instead He SELF-LESSLY walked into torture and gave His life so that we might know Him. 
He took MY place. He really did take the focus off of me in the BEST way possible!
Often even in our relationships with Christ the {Me Monster} comes out. 
Our prayers are for health, safety, more comfort in living...
How often {truly} do you just thank Him for the fact that you're alive? How often do you pray that your life would be one that glorifies Him in all things?
{I'm obviously JUST as guilty as the next guy}
We're a people of self-seeking. Yes, we have the ability to be selfless but there's {usually} at least a hiiiiint of selfish ambition.
I encourage you {and myself} to look for ways to say "It's you! It's ALL ABOUT YOU!" as much as possible. 
Whether it be in your quiet time with the Lord and you're truly seeking to glorify Him in your life
or
in your interactions with friends... Just push your self away and focus on those around you. 
Hear their words. Meet their needs. 
Instead of "How can I help?" ask "What do YOU need?"
Same question. Shifted Focus. 
Try it. It's actually a nice change not looking at the {Me Monster}.

A few months ago (around Valentine's Day) as I was leaving the grocery store I rounded the corner from the check stands toward my exit and off to the left was the jewelry department.
Diamond rings, earrings, pendants... you know lots of pretty things. Then there was a pair of mannequins set up with t-shirts that read
{Happy Wife Happy Life}
Happy Wife. Happy Life.
My first thought was
"That's funny!"

My second thought was
"Wait, what?!"
I know to many people this simple statement seems harmless and some would even say it encourages little romances within relationships...
Happy Wife. Happy Life.
I say {It's a fiiiiiine line} One that can be a sweet gesture to romance your lady
OR
A way of buying her off.
Would I LOVE for my husband to come home with roses and pretties for me? Would that make me happy?
Uh... {DUH!} {p.s. it would ALSO make me broke!}
But do I NEED him to come home with roses and pretties for me still be happy and joyfully meet the needs of my husband and children?
Thaaat would be a {NEGATORY}
Now before you get bent out of shape and think I'm saying it's wrong to get/give gifts
I'm not. I promise. 
What I'm trying {hoping} to get across is that our life's happiness shouldn't, and dare I say, CAN'T be reliant on the material {pretties} that our significant other's may or may not come home with. 
If you expect a gift and don't get it there tends to be bitterness.
If you expect a gift and do get it there tends to be a desire for more.
If you're expected to deliver and don't there tends to be feelings of inadequacy.
If you're expected to deliver and do there tends to be pressure to out do yourself. 
Do we see the vicious cycle?
We're always left needing/wanting {MORE}.

More what?
More {stuff}
Happy Wife?
Not-so Happy Life?
Matthew 6:19-21 19"Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on Earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, 20 but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in a steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
In an age of fast paced lives and so many distractions let your TIME be your gift. 
Let your TIME be the treasure that you bestow on those that you love.
Give the gift of uninterrupted one on one face to face hand holding TIME.
Pretties are nice,  but if I never see my husband and my children don't know love and affection pretties are just chunks of junk with no meaning. 
Time is a gift that can really only be stolen by the person who has it.  Give it.  'Til you're ALL OUT OF IT.

Here I am sitting on my couch, taking a break from work to nurse the baby, enjoying this peaceful moment, when I hear a knock at the door.
{Why now?! I'm practically topless trying to feed a screaming baby}
So I get myself together and get up and open then door...
{Mormons} 
I tell you what... they've got a knack for knocking at the WORST times!
Two sweet boys, probably 18 or 19, standing at my doorstep ready to tell me about their faith. (can I be the first to say, it's WEIRD that I see a 19 year old and think "aww... sweet boy.") {I'm OLD!}
 I've got Lydia on my hip and they oooh and awww over her for a second. One politely asks if she's my first.  "She's our third." I respond
"Oh! Yeah! There ya go!" was the response I got. {I had to laugh at that one}
Then onto the serious talk...

They started to share about why they were here and what message they had to share with me.
I listened politely all the while wanting to say (not so gracefully) "Come on in, have a glass of water, and I'll tell you about a very different Gospel that I believe."
They asked if I had a faith in Christ and I said I do. 
They asked if I had a few minutes one day that they could come back and talk to my husband and I about their message. 
I explained that we quite literally do not. But thank you for the offer. 
They sweetly offered to help with anything that I might need and left me their phone number on a "Plan of Salvation" pamphlet. {which one of them referred to as the "Pathway to Happiness"}
I took the pamphlet and they left.
My first thought was  {"Dang it! The got me!"}
I sat down to thumb through the pamphlet and my heart hurt. 
Not because I was reading something life changing or I was suddenly seeing truth in the Mormon faith.
But because they believe in their theology with such conviction that they go door to door and tell people about it.  {now I realize it's kind of a requirement of sorts but still...}
So here I am reading this "Plan of Salvation" and I can't help but want to run down the street and get them and say  {with much more fervor and much less sarcasm} "Come on in. Have a glass of water. And let's talk about a different Gospel..."
I guess what hit me so hard is that very few "Evangelical Christians" are willing to go door to door and say "I've got something amazing to share with you!"
Heck... how many "Evangelical Christians" even know what an "Evangelical Christian" is?!
Now I realize some people believe VERY different doctrines about evangelism. {And this is not to become a debate on who/what/where/when/how we are to evangelize.} 
But just having a bold faith that you ACTUALLY KNOW SOMETHING about and having a desire to share it.
What does that look like?
Do you know what you believe? Do you know why you believe it? Do you know the difference between your faith and theology and, say, a Mormon's faith and theology?
If you were asked by someone of the LDS church  what you believe about God the Father, Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and Satan...
could you answer that question?
It's hard. I know a lot {A. LOT} of people who hold fast to their Mormon faith. 
And I'm not going to be that guy that says "YOU'RE WRONG and HERE'S WHY!!!" But I do believe a very different Gospel than the one they believe and share. 
Today they got me thinking.
Am I sure enough in my faith to be able to share it with someone who asks? Am I sure enough in my faith to be able to "disagree" with someone of another belief system?

I can, by grace alone, say with confidence that,  Yes, I am sure.  My purpose in life is to glorify God and enjoy Him in all things. Trusting that all things are for His glory and my good. I cannot choose to be good in my own power. I am made good only because Christ chose to give me the gift of salvation through faith. 
I pray this gets you thinking. I pray this lights a spark for you to dig deep into your faith and chase after truth. And I pray {with fervor!} that your life might be changed by what you discover. **This being a touchy topic, please refrain from arguments/bashing here or in comment threads. If you'd like to speak with me, please by all means email or message me**

**Let's set the scene**

I had just gotten Lydia up from a nap
and headed in to E's room to let her know that quiet time was over.
She was sitting on her bed
(just like I had asked her to be) reading a book quietly.  She looked up from her book and sweetly said
"Hi Mamma..." with her crooked little smile.

{That's when I saw it}

I felt my smile turn quickly into a scowl. I felt my body temperature rise.
My heart started racing and my breathing sped up.

Marker...
In all different colors...
All. Over. The. Wall.

{I wanted to scream!!!}

All I managed to get out was a gasp.

She quickly froze.
She looked TERRIFIED.

She was afraid of me.  Actually afraid. Of me!
In that instant I just stopped.
I took a deep breath. In... and Out...
Without me ever saying a word she threw herself onto her pillow crying. Apologizing for being sneaky. Pleading with me not to get angry.  She. Was. Broken.
I told her that I needed her to gather all of her markers and give them to me.
Tearfully, she got up, gathered the markers, and handed them over to me. 
I walked out of her room, put then up where she can't get to them, walked to the cabinet with the cleaning supplies, and grabbed a sponge and some vinegar. 
When I walked back to her room she sniffled and said, "Mamma, I will clean it up! I promise! I'll do it all by myself."
I told her "Here, you take the sponge. I'll spray the vinegar and you wipe it up."
As she was wiping the walls clean of her creativity ;) she turned to me and said "Thank you for not yelling at me, Mamma. Thank you for not being mad."
But I WAS mad. {Really Mad!}
I just smiled a half smile at her and couldn't find the right words. So I didn't say anything. 
As we sat there in silence while she cleaned the walls the Lord spoke to my heart in a REALLY powerful way.
This is us.
This is ME.
Everyday.
I mess up. I make poor decisions. And I'm blissfully ignoring it until it's brought to light. Then I'm devastated by it. I BEG for grace and mercy. I BEG for forgiveness.
I promise, Promise, PROMISE I'm going to make it better.
I'm going to {BE} better...
and what does the Lord say?
"Here's your sponge. Let's clean this up together."
I'm so glad the Lord doesn't look on me and my messes with the wrath that I deserve.
You see, if it weren't for Jesus, I would NEVER have the ability to be forgiven.
The law can only be fulfilled by justice. My wrongs could only be righted by due punishment.
But Jesus brings the game changer and fulfills that. I'm justified by faith, which is a gift of grace, from Jesus by His death and resurrection.
{WOW!}
Can we all just soak that in for a second?!
Thank you Lord for not being angry with me.  Thank you Jesus for your grace.
John 1:16-17 -  For from His fullness we have all received grace upon grace. For the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth come through Jesus Christ.

Am I still allowed to be sad?
Am I still allowed to cry?
Am I allowed to be happy?
Am I allowed to smile?
Two. Years. Since our world was turned upside down.
Two. Years. Since our family lost a piece of our puzzle.
Two. Years. Since I first cried a cry I didn't know I could.
Two. Years. Since I was told my 34 week old, unborn baby had died. 
Many will say {have said} Two Years is {enough}
Enough?
Will it ever really be enough?
A lot has happened in the two years since Daphne was born.
She has a new little sister.
I think she would have loved Lydia. 
Some days I play with Eden and Lydia and wonder what it would be like to have Daphne here too.
Some days I feel guilty for enjoying the girls. 
Some days I feel guilty for missing Daphne when I have such blessings in Eden and Lydia.
Some days...
Well... some days I am just angry.
I'm sad.
I feel empty.
I feel joyful.
I feel peace.
I feel like nothing could possibly make me feel better.
I feel like a crazy person for still feeling all these things...
The funny thing about grief {or not so funny thing...} is that you just can't predict it.
Suddenly out of nowhere the wind is knocked out of me, I feel like I can't stand, and I want to run away from all human contact and hide indefinitely. In the two years since we learned that Daphne's heart had stopped, I've learned amazing lessons.
I've experienced great adventures.
I've learned that a mamma's heart never stops growing and never stops loving.
I still re-live the moment she was born frequently.
Sometimes I dwell on our short time with her.
Sometimes a smell (usually of cinnamon) will remind me.
Sometimes it's the news of a friend that has experienced the loss of a child that brings me back to that moment.
It's just something that can't be un-seen un-felt or un-remembered.
Two years and I can still give you every last detail of her.
No, it's not {enough}
Yes, life goes on and the world around me changes. New seeds root to the Earth and new flowers bloom.
The seasons change.
Tears get fewer and farther between. But it's never {enough} time to be {all better}.
Just as there could never have been enough time in the world to spend with her and breathe her in, there will never be enough time that passes.

But one thing in all of this terrible, beautiful journey that is {enough} is the infinite, enduring, healing love of our God. 
That Love. It's why I can wake up each morning and breath again. It's why I can smile through the grief and pain. It's what gives me deep resounding peace.
That Love is what gave Daphne to me in the first place.
That Love is what is surrounding her now. 
That Love is how my life goes on.
And most importantly...
That Love is how her life goes on. 
Two Years. Twenty Two Years. Seventy Two Years.
Will never be {enough} But trusting the love that God has poured out over us through all of those times will always be enough. 
Happy 2nd Birthday my Sweet Daphne Grace.
I wish I could see you waddling around Heaven with your head full of curly black hair.
You are loved sweet baby. You are missed deeply and terribly. And while I still don't want to accept it, You are right where you need to be. ** I have decided to share one photo of our girl. Nobody apart from our family has ever seen her face and I feel like now my heart is ready to share her. I'm sorry if you're offended or upset by the photo.**

**I've been feeling like this reminder needs to be played in our heads.  Again. and Again. and Again. and Again..."
Taking on the title of {Mommy} looks a lot different for everyone. 
But whether you're a SAHM (Stay At Home Mommy) WM (Working Mommy)
WAHM (Work At Home Mommy)
or a fabulous hybrid of any of those... somethings are always the same.
Being Mommy means: Giving up yourself physically for another tiny human. (whether you carried the baby or not, you still sacrifice in this area) Going to bed late. Waking up early. Getting dressed in clean clothes only to be puked on 3.7 seconds later. Being willing to give up every last breath you have to protect your babes from the big bad world. Worrying your face off that you're not doing the "right" things. Making every effort to make sure they have just what they need. {and often more than they need}
Being Mommy means:
Sometimes not showering for multiple days on end. Sometimes not actually knowing how many days it really has been. Kissing boo boos. Singing songs. Reading books. Playing games. Not talking to a grown human for several days. Using toddler talk when you do finally talk to a grown human
{or}
Not having anything relevant to say when you talk to another grown human.
Sometimes...
Being Mommy means:
Being the bad guy. You get the ugly, grumpy faces when everyone else gets the smiles. You have to fix hurt feelings even when you didn't cause them. You lose your temper. You feel guilty for losing your temper. You feel embarrassed for losing your temper. You apologize for losing your temper.
But you know what else  Being Mommy means?

It means you have a small person(s) watching you. learning from you. admiring you. loving you. wishing they could be just like you.
You see... Being Mommy isn't always glorious and it most definitely isn't always glamorous...
But it is Always. Worth it.
You ARE a good mom. Whether today feels like a total BUST or it feels like you've conquered the world,  you. are. a good mom. 
Whether or not anyone got out of their jammies, whether or not the laundry got done, whether or not you made three healthy perfect meals...
You. Are. A good mom. 
Rest in the joy that those little's give you.
Breath in that smell. Cherish every last bit.
Nobody else can be that baby's Mamma the way you can. 

February.
We meet again.
Funny story... I've always disliked February because of Valentine's Day. Truth be told... until I was 16 I never had a Valentine. {so that may have played a part in that loathing} {ahem... moving on...} I always balked at the cheesey wheesey romancy stuff.
The over priced chocolates and roses and teddy bears that do an {I Love You} boogie to the tune of "Hound Dog" The excuse that people used to go WAY out of their way to "prove" their love to another human being.
WAY too many marriage proposals.
~~~~~~~~~~
Now I have a strange love/hate relationship with February. I want to skip it all together and I want it to stay forever {all in the same breath}
I want to avoid thinking about it, talking about it, being in it. I want to pretend like it doesn't exist. 
BUT
I want to dwell on it. Tell the world about it. Be in it. And pretend like it's all that does exist.
{you can say it... "weeeeiiiirrrdoooo..."}
See remembering is a hard thing to do. It's hard because that means you re-feel. You bring back to mind all the things {good and bad} that are a part of whatever it is you're remembering.
The smells, the rain, the blooming daffodils, the snow, the sunshine, the heartache, the inability to breath... that beautiful, beautiful girl.
You see I hated February because of all the roses...
and then... there were Daffodils.