For one hour, once a week, I make my way to the same seat I have been taking for some time now where I try to figure out my past, present and future. As much as talking things out has saved me from complete, irreversible insanity, I would not be able to do anything if I didn't write.

Writing is my true therapy. I have been doing it my entire life. I write for calm. I write to think but most importantly - I write to breathe. Each time I do, I feel what seems like a physical release leave my head and make it's way to the paper through my hand. So when my head is full and I can't find the words, it is more frustrating than anything I could imagine. I have to get it out. I need the release.

That brings me to the last few days. The urge to take the thoughts from my mind, put them to paper and breathe again has been so intense. However, each time I have attempted to write, the more frustrated I have become. The words won't come out and I haven't been able to figure out why. It is as if there is a clog of some sort and my thoughts are just swimming around waiting for repair so they can flow.

Until now.

I try to pay attention, in my life, to the 'little' things and twice today it happened. I heard it and it was the repair I was waiting for to get things flowing again. I looked up someone else's words that are amazing to me and as I read through them (yet again) I felt everything open up. I felt lighter and calmer. The words, in just the way they are organized and I love (get) so very much, spoke to me. I heard.

Someone knows it's hard to keep an open heart. When even friends seem out to harm me.

But if I can heal a broken heart. Wouldn't time be out to charm me?

I don't know but what I am starting to realize is that Don't ya think that you need somebody? Don't ya think that you need someone? Everybody needs somebody.

I am just happy that somebody was listening on shuffle.