I've been meaning to finish a post I started a few days ago about an awesome evening I had last Thursday, but haven't had the chance due to going through an absolutely tumultuous time over the last week. This culminated with hideous news on Friday, followed by a wonderful weekend with some of my best friends, which in turn ended with them suffering a bereavement.
It put my own problems in perspective and made me remember how I felt when my step-brother passed. The pain gradually numbs over time before you forget just how raw it was and you slip back into getting worried about work and other pointless crap. Then something wakes you up from the daze that you've allowed yourself to fall into and you remember that ultimately none of that matters apart from spending time with the people you love and letting them know that you love them. I'm not trivialising other problems at all and know that in the scheme of things I'm extremely lucky and live a sheltered life. Because I know that deep down, whatever other problems that I have in my life, I have family and friends (who are my family in everything but blood), who'll be there for me.
I'll finish my post tomorrow and I'll keep writing because that's who I am and that's what I love to do. And the thing everyone always forgets until they're painfully reminded, is that life is too short not to do what you love.
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