A Jazzy New Year
Dear Diary, I can’t wait for the holidays to be over. I feel physical pain inside my chest from spending time in this house. From feeling grandpa’s presence everywhere. I talk to him in the evening, when I’m lying in bed. I imagine that he talks back. It’s oddly comforting. I knew him so well that I’m able to make up his answers to my questions. His solutions to my problems. I didn’t think I had it in me, but it’s like I’m giving myself my own therapy sessions. Without anyone to listen to them, and without being ashamed of them. As ridiculous as it may sound, I’ve started writing a book. An idea just popped into my head the other day, when it seemed like it was about to snow. In the end, it didn’t, but it still got creativity flowing within me. I wrote my very first chapter. Fixed it ab
- Writer
