The last week or so was very hard for me. It was dark, dreary and now it's hazy.
To curb all the shock and hurt I turned to writing. Writing with no end in mind, a connection of my wrist, a pen and jotterbook paper. I can't even remember what I wrote but it flowed better than usual.
Realised that I write best when I'm experiencing intense emotions. Not really extreme happiness though, I tend to bask in it, live for it and not write about it.

Okay I admit, it wasn't just writing. Ice cream and talking as well.
Totally triple-timing my three loves.
But writing I do alone. Always have and always will. (pun unintended)

I'm listening to Delicate by Damien Rice now at 1.49am. Over and over again.
Over and over. It just seems so apt.

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate