It's hard to remember that there is a person on the other side of the words. Hard to remember that the words didn't somehow form of their own accord on screens and pages and appear before you. It makes it harder to do the same yourself.

In love with words, I page through years of lives. Suddenly made aware of the reality of hands and heart behind them, I'm unable to look any more.

Trying to tell you this, I feel like I put in my self too much and overwhelm my words. I'm strangling them, drowning them in too much of me. I leave them overworked and unable to convey thought and meaning as they were meant. To them I apologize. And to you.