That Voice Will Never Go Away

I remember staring at the wall after our last fight. You punched me, and I picked up a phone and yanked the cord out of the wall. I charged after you with blood all over my face and dripping off my clothes. My frustration had finally reached its breaking point, and I charged after you like a raging bull. I suppose one hit would have been sufficient, but your face looked like a pinata, and I needed you to break.

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It Was For A Season

I was going to start my Monday writing about my normal beginning of the week subject. Giving everyone, including myself, a little workout motivation for the week. But the topic of adult friendship hit my spirit today.

I was talking to my ex-client about her old friendships and her current ones in her new hometown. She left kicking and screaming but knew that there were better opportunities elsewhere for her husband as well as her career. Which is why she’s my ex-client. Read More