That lump in your throat that needs to spill your heart out and then you sit down and write. Finally.

There is so much pressure right now, as my fiancee so thoughtfully points out, people are at a breaking point. I sometimes wonder if the conspiracy-type stuff he listens to on the internet is true. Could people really be so evil? Could the government really want to control us that much? Are there really signs of prescription drugs in our water? And how could those people in the laboratories create such an evil thing to make helpless people addicted to it?
Question after question and then you become saddened and then it's replaced with anger. The wondering of what you can do to help. The inability to even say what is on your mind. The letter you should have written a week ago. Your heart spilled out on paper, the lump in my throat returns. The man I am going to marry is perhaps the best person in the world. How could he have remained single for so long?
I have so much that needs to come out right now but it can't. The saddest thing for me when I was getting out of my abusive relationship was the thought that so many other people are in situations similar, or way worse than mine. And this is worse. Because children are involved. All we can do is move forward.