Some days feel like I’ve just been wrung out. Like every inch of rope has been used. Like every log on the woodpile has been burned. Then I realize that I’m not even acquainted with true suffering. No, I’ve seen it. I’ve even gotten close to it. But I’ve really only observed it. (Which makes me feel silly for feeling wrung out.) I wonder how I would fair if it were me in the seat of loss. When you feel like your spine will snap if you’re twisted any tighter. There are some of us that know what that’s like. I’m not one of them. (And I’m afraid to find out.)
