a wolf angel is not a good angel

All in all, it’s good; all in all, I’ve been having fun.

But I cannot, despite everything, turn off the nights. I tried, and I
think at least a bit I succeeded. I think at least I hid my crying –
dry sobs, really, quiet — until tonight. That counts, right? I am a
terrible guest.

I am rereading ‘Art & Lies’. I am rereading it to try to remind
myself that I need to forgive myself. Accept. Move on. Not waste time
crying over what has happened. Not waste my life mired in misery.

Rather like Persephone, I sometimes feel: I spend half my time in the
dark, down deep. I am fine until the sun sets. Winter gets long.

The days, though: they can be good. I am trying. It is sometimes more
than I can do.

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