She is not “my girl.”
She belongs to herself, and to all of the world. And I am blessed, for with all her freedom, she still comes back to me, moment-to-moment, day-by-day, and night-by-night.
How much more blessed can I be?
It was then I realised that turning my head off to the depression would turn my head off to all those wonderful words that became sentences that became thoughts that became stories and without those I would truly be lost.