I'm not sure what's under my skin today. I realized this morning I have an extraordinary amount of guilt about "breaking up my family" when the truth is my family isn't broken. It's me and Stomp and Goshie and Mr. W and Papa Mark and Gramma Papa and Aunts and Uncles all over the world. Besides that, it takes two people to break a marriage. I've acknowledged and accepted my part. I did a lot wrong, plenty wrong. A lot of places where I should've stopped to fix myself, fix the marriage, that I didn't. Anyway, something's under my skin today and it's prickling up little tears that run down out of my eyes, down my cheeks, along my arms and down my fingers onto the keys.
Perhaps it's the proximity to the memorial of the Newtown shooting. Perhaps when tears stream onto the keys you should always listen to Leonard Cohen. I don't know but this morning, here you go.
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