Dear Diary,

During this time I’ve watched myself create every excuse to not be alone. Like, going out of my way to be surrounded by some type of noise that’ll keep me distracted long enough to watch the day expire. Then waking up to do it all over again the next day. I’ve noticed that being busy was a way to blindfold reality; enough to not focus on the things that I didn’t want to find time to fix. That slowing down long enough would force me to take responsibility for the wounds that I’ve allowed to stay open for too long. I’ve spent too much time admiring sunflowers in other gardens that I’ve forgotten the importance of tending to my own.