I know some of you are wondering, “Are we going to see what’s coming next for Annie and Kerry?” And the answer to that is, “Nope. Not today.” The why of that is both complicated and . . . not.
Part of what happened, for me last night, was having to help out a couple of friends who were having a rough spot of it last night. I was up until midnight speaking with first one, then the other, consoling, offering advice, and offering general reassurance. It’s the sort of thing I do these days, but more and more I seem to give this advice freely. And without hesitation.
It’s easy to write off a lot of things that happen online as just another form of drama, and seeing as how I keep our Facebook Drama llama calmed down most of the time, but my friends were in the middle of real concerns, so no drama: it was hurt and anxiety all the way down the line. I stepped in and did what I could to help ease the pain.
Speaking of drama, however . . .
I did manage to write a little. We’re only talking about two hundred words, but I’ll get to more tonight. There is a problem that I’m encountering, and it’s one I’ve hit before: the feeling that I’m about to say or show something that’s a little too personal. I’ve done this before with other stories, and I feel it coming on here as well. Because what is about to happen is personal–not only for my kids, but for me. I’m about to unbare some souls and show some feelings that haven’t popped up before, and . . . it’s nerve wracking to pull this out and wave it about.
Though I’m much better with my emotions these days–never might there are times I have the emotional stability of a twelve year old girl going through puberty, I’m talking about opening myself up to others–there are times when I feel I’m putting to much of my own soul out there on the page. I saw something, show something, put a hint or two here and there: that’s all part of the plot. But there are things that Kerry says in this scene which is a little gut wrenching for me, because they’re things I’ve felt and even said from time-to-time.
When Kerry says no one has ever loved him, or that they wish he wasn’t there, I’ve heard those things before. I’ve had those words ring in my ears, either coming from someone else, or from my own mouth. It can be a tough thing to write about an emotionally detached eleven year old boy, and remember what it was like when that boy was you. And then to go back and write this . . . it’s not the stuff of nightmares, but it leaves me uneasy leading up to and for a little after I finally get it out of my head and down on paper.
Tonight, for sure, I’ll get there. I’ll stay off the computer and put on the music and just write.
Things need to be said. And writing is where I get my support.
Besides . . . Annie will be there. And she’s the best support I have.