Last… where oranges had already begun to peek through the branches.
This… still lush with green, holding onto the richness of summer.
I have spent the past year sifting through layers. Peeling back layers and exposing myself. Hiding behind layers of guilt and discomfort. Exploring layers through writing. Drowning in layers of tears.
I am unsure of the intent. Will it be a nursery again? Will I, the desk, be moving out? Or is this simply an attempt to brighten a room that was previously a bitter reminder?
There are five stages of grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. There seems to be an underlying implication that the stages are linear, that you move from denial, to anger, to bargaining, to depression and acceptance. What I have found that you move in and out and around the stages, over and over.
Going through a traumatic experience alters you, forever. I decided to alter my body, forever.