Lately, no matter what I try, I have not been able to write. Not one single word. I pick up the pen, I play with it, I doodle on the paper. I whisper lovingly in it’s little pen ear, stroke it’s silky smooth skin, to no avail. I have not been able to critique other people’s work properly, or work on my poetry, or write down this damn story that keeps whining at me from inside my head. It’s gnawing on my brain right now, driving me insane. I read something today however, that made me realise how trivial it is that I can’t write a stupid poem.

There are a few blogs that I read every day, and I care about the people who write them. I care about what is happening in their lives, how their children are growing up, what they have planned for the weekend. Granted, I may never speak to them; our only communication may be unanswered e-mails. Still, I feel for them, and I read about their lives and I am touched by them. Heather, a woman who has on countless occasions made me laugh to the point of nearly wetting myself, today posted that she had suffered a miscarriage.

I am unable to find the words to express how deeply I feel for her and Jon, but I e-mailed her today anyway, offering my condolences and a reminder that she is brave, and courageous, and has graceful composure. She is one of my favourite writers, and a very entertaining woman, and I know that her e-mail inbox is probably flooded with messages right now. For that, I am grateful. I’m thankful that she and her husband have the support of people all over the world at a time like this. I cried for her today, and this will be on my mind for weeks to come.

I know that I have never met her, or her family, that we’re not friends or even really acquaintances. I still feel for her, though. I read about her life everyday and I feel for the heartbreak, and the anguish, and the grief that her and Jon must be feeling right now. I admire her courage when posting that entry, her composure while she spoke of it, and her hopeful determination that was still present, despite the situation.

Directly after reading Heather’s post, I went to check if Becca had updated. She had.. and I started crying again. She posted about taking a pregnancy test, and not wanting to be pregnant. I think she probably is (*jinxes her*), but that isn’t the point. The point is, here we have one woman mourning the loss of a child that never was, and another praying that the child will never be. The unfairness of it all.. I know life isn’t fair, but sometimes it seems very cruel.

I’m having trouble sleeping at the moment, and I’m not entirely sure why. At first I thought it was just that my pattern kind of got thrown off over the holidays, but no. I get drowsy at around 7pm, and then by 8pm I’m wide awake again. Then, about 4.30am, I get drowsy. If I stay up until 6.00am and have a shower, I’m wide awake again. I need to seriously discipline my body clock. Harshly, with a cricket bat.

Ciao. xox