I understand what you mean, I think. My scars are nowhere near as dramatic, but I have an essay not unlike this one inside me, circling around and around a dozen variations of 'the cold friend who wears glasses' and most particularly a Jeep that might never reach the sunset it's driving toward. I've scribbled out bits and pieces of it from time to time, in my own way, trying to map the constellation of stories that form my bones. Maybe I'll keep trying to do that, because this essay is beautiful, not because it's glorious but because it's alive, and I'm glad you're here to write it.
I understand what you mean, I think. My scars are nowhere near as dramatic, but I have an essay not unlike this one inside me, circling around and around a dozen variations of 'the cold friend who wears glasses' and most particularly a Jeep that might never reach the sunset it's driving toward. I've scribbled out bits and pieces of it from time to time, in my own way, trying to map the constellation of stories that form my bones. Maybe I'll keep trying to do that, because this essay is beautiful, not because it's glorious but because it's alive, and I'm glad you're here to write it.