Tuesday, February 18, 2020 By the end of this story you will recognize, and appreciate, the sheer kismet of embarking on this journey on a Tuesday. For now, let me begin by saying that I have dreamt of being a published author for as long as I can remember. Countless times beginning this story or that, only to discard and abandon the process in my moments of doubt and self despair. Ideas packed safely away in neat boxes before being carelessly swept away into the tumultuous chaos have some how begun to make their way back to the deceptively calm surface. Over the last year, I have felt as though I was being compelled to write. Certain stories, characters and plot points have increasingly reoccurred. Invading my thoughts, both waking and asleep. Some were most persistent, almost as insistent as a certain pushy fat man could be, nagging at me until I began writing them down. One idea leading me down a rabbit hole to my epiphany. I NEED to share these memories that mean so much to me, incidents that would forever shape who I have become. My amazing, supportive husband loves to say “Don’t talk about it...BE about it.” That’s what I intend to do. THIS is MY year! (Ok, let's be real, 2020 wasn't ANYONE'S year.) Last year, most assuredly NOT my year. In fact, damn near the opposite. After facing health issues I found myself unemployed with entirely too much time on my hands. Some of you are blissfully unaware of how scary spending too much time with your own thoughts can be. In fact, apparently not everyone is “lucky” enough to have a constant voice in their head. Combine my chronic overthinking with my anxiety and bipolar and suffice it to say, this process of gathering these pieces of me in this story is a much healthier use of my time and energy. Perhaps I will find some peace along the way. As you read on, let’s imagine we are friends gathering around a bonfire. Some of you have been here before, you know these stories by heart. To those who are new here, welcome. Grab some apple pie shots or some triple P, get comfortable, and let me tell you my tale. Of a time when I was desperately lost and the most unlikeliest friends who helped me find myself. This is the story of how a random Tuesday changed my life, how it’s ALWAYS Tuesday, and how I am still struggling to recover now that Tuesday’s gone. Dedicated to my best friend, Lucas Matthew Murray (1980-2010) I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you wanted me to but always know the love we had for one another means more than I can express. Thank you for all the times you saved me; i’m so sorry, in the end, I couldn’t do the same for you. I miss you terribly. p.l.e. me ~May you hear symphonies where there are only wind chimes.
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