This has been one of those painfully long weeks. And of course, as it usually is when time seems to be at a standstill, I don't feel as though I've accomplished a damn thing.
I float through so many of my days on autopilot. I offer something close to appropriate responses when I must interact and even manage to muster a cheerful disposition most days, but as I go through each of the motions, my mind wanders to another place, another time.
Or perhaps it is my heart that roams those long corridors of my memory. Heart, mind, soul — I can scarcely tell the difference between them these days and wonder if I ever could.