Sammi, you’re gorgeous. And I don’t just mean that in a that’s-a-hot-pic way, but really all your pics have a certain glow about them. And I don’t just mean that in a she-used-a-cool-filter-on-that way, but you have an intriguing radiance about you, and I don’t just mean that in a Sammi-just-swallowed-a-radioactive-donut way, but… Yeah.

Something just clicked, even though you’ve alluded to it bunches of times in the past. “Most of my posts are about lost love, but that’s because it’s the only thing that I can clearly express. There’s more to it than that.”

Oh god you said it. You said it all. There’s an inner turmoil that can’t be expressed in words or images or sounds or any way known to humans. But we can sort of express the feeling by telling a story. The story itself may have nothing to do with the real pain, but it’s the only story we know. So we keep telling it. We get good at telling it. But it’s still nothing compared to what’s inside.

After all this time I think I’m finally starting to “get” you, Sams. I wish I could say I know how you feel, but no, that’s the point. As much as I or anyone can associate with the feeling, we’re not feeling what you’re going through because there’s so much more you never expressed.

And well *that* is a feeling I know too well. For what it’s worth, we’ll both be skeletons on the floors of our mansions. If you care to join me, tea will be served at noon. Bring a mop 😉