I'm not, really, backpedaling. I've just been thinking about what I wrote yesterday, and I feel like I was being a brat and taking cheap shots.
You know I absolutely adore you babyloss parents, right? You know I think you are amazing and wonderful and have quite literally saved me so many times . . . and I wasn't dissing the actual Remembrance Day, yes? I hope you do. Because I love you and would rather melt my face off than hurt your feelings.
And anyone who might be reading this who isn't a babyloss parent . . . you know I love you also, right? Even if you feel awkward around me or feel like you don't know what to say, or are just reading this to find out if I've imploded yet. Or if you do ask and do care, I carry your thoughts like good luck charms in my pocket.
It all comes back to the damn Eff Beez, doesn't it? The root of all of society's collective ills. Or, my ills I guess. I just miss my girl and sometimes that comes out as grumpiness. Sorry, friends.