As my fingers lightly touching the keys, after months, don't have much to say/type. This is my form of communication and yet I don't have much to say. Oh! I do have something, the reason I stopped writing for months, other than what I already mentioned above.
I was scared and completely over it.
From the moment that the asshole more commonly known as Melanoma entered my life, he has consumed me. Or is Melanoma a 'she'? I guess I'd rather know cancer as an "it" because that would be something unknown; I've already written something about this here. The diagnosis takes on a whole new meaning...a whole new persona. "It's" kind of like you have an annoying new roommate that you didn't invite in, yet this person is totally comfortable in your living room, using your silverware, eating your favorite ice cream that you bought for yourself, completely cozying up with your favorite blanket while staring you directly in the eye and not blinking.
O-kay, those might be fighting actions. I would kick a dude, possibly even a child, if they did all that back to back. I take my blanket business serious. I'm so not afraid to say that I legitimately have a binky. And binky is in the dryer getting super fuzzy and warm right now. I will get into the 'scared and over it' part later on, right now I just want to enjoy my hubs and my warm blanket.