I have this theory that in a good marriage, conflict shows up when you forget you know who this other person is.
I've written myself through loneliness, depression, anxiety, anger, fear, frustration for my entire life.
It's friction. Maybe not friction that matters, but friction nonetheless.
So I averaged a B- for 2018. Oof. That F really hurts me, you know?
The bends are sharp, the canyons are dark, and we can't see what's up ahead.
I've been promising this one for a while.
That's the beauty of NaNoWriMo: your job is to write.