I think I feel a little down today. I can't move past Cocoon & Pagan Poetry.

Today is my father's birthday. He turns 60. I wish I weren't alone right now, but I'll be okay. I wish there was somewhere I could go now, but I'll be okay. 

I wish I could still write—and I can try—but I don't know where to start. 

You may not see this part anymore, because I literally just saw this post get one view, and I'm typing this part just now.

I missed you by a few minutes. Well, it's nice that you're there. Thanks.