" But more and more we're suffering
Not nobody, not a thousand beers
Can keep us from feeling so all alone
But you are what you love
And not what loves you back"
- Jenny Lewis
Each week we politely meet at a dirty gas station precisely one hour from each of our homes. We make quick conversation and buckle the baby from one car seat to the next. The sadness surrounding the whole routine used to suffocate me. Now I can see that it has muddied my emotions and cut off most of the creative channels in my brain, but it doesn't have the sting that it used to. I've found little ways to cope. I find great comfort in people who too have been gutted. I run, I sleep, I write, I consume, I find ways to glide past the painful parts.