I’ve been stretching, undergoing a refining lately. It’s taken me a while to put my finger on exactly what is brewing, the thoughts and feelings that are formulating and the change that is occurring within me. I go about my days, halfway, with restraint, holding back, thinking that I need to live and love frugally, as if living and loving was a commodity you could run out of. I write, and I tell my stories, and they don’t feel right. I walk away from an hour of putting words to paper, and something is missing.