OCR Text |
Show 221 anger with people who, at heart, only hoped the best for me and just did not know how to provide it, for whatever reason. I have stopped typing. It is written. I will review it tomorrow, make the necessary corrections, fix the emotionalism. The birds are still singing outside the open window, oblivious to the pain I have experienced at re-living those experiences. I am glad they are still there, still singing. They are a solid cheerful reality in the midst of a very bad memory. It is strange how much harm can be done with the best of good intentions. |