No, I'm not writing

And that disappoints me.
Disarms me.
Depresses me.
Angers me.

Scares me.

There are reasons. Of course there are reasons. I don't feel myself. My concentration is on other areas of my life. My creativity is going into the soap pot and not out of my fingers.

I've been dealing with some emotional things that have too long gone undealt with.

This is all true, of course. Sex is pretty far down my list right now though at least I'm 'taking care' of things around here /wink.

I'm going out of town this weekend and I'm really looking forward to it. Good friends, good fun. Relaxing. Laughing. Having fun. I need this. It's imperative to getting myself back to myself.

It'll get better.
It always gets better.

I wrote an email tonight that I hope I'll have the courage to send. It's hard for me, because I really don't enjoy upsetting other human beings. But the problem is, that for so long, I avoided that in the meantime ended up doing interior damage to myself.

No more of that.
No more.
No.

So as I keep telling you I'll be back, I really will be.
I have to be.

This is who I am.
And this is where I should be.