I was having a conversation a couple of nights ago with a good friend who is in mourning. My heart went out to him, knowing how devastation and heartbreak change the entire landscape of being. I told him, truthfully, that I feel I lost my best self years ago. I want to be that person but don't know if I ever can be. I've grown out of the numbness that accompanied my heartbreak, my hesitancy to love dissipated and I cautiously have been inching toward my ideal self.
32 came, a week ago. My birthday was a mixture of joy and chaos. I'm still recovering. I suppose it's fair to say the highs matched the lows. I'm left with an odd taste in my mouth. Looking forward. It was Love's birthday too and I think his birthday was rough as well.
I'm engrossed in A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. I love fantasy books and this one has me dizzy. I wouldn't have started it had I known there would be a sequel only because I can't imagine we'll be getting the sequel for a while since this was just released last month. This book has made this week un-awful.