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November 26, 2025 · 8:17 am

Acronyms, Novel Gags: Surprisingly Tough

Tomorrow I’ll be posting…I guess you could call it the finale of my “Angst Saga.” (I don’t think I’ll be calling it that, but you certainly could.)

A poem about heartbreak might seem like an odd choice for Thanksgiving, but I truly am grateful for the experience. I’m not one of those people who thinks pain is intrinsically valuable–it’s not–but there are some valuable experiences that wouldn’t be the same without it. For example: moments when you’ve taken a big risk that didn’t pay off, but you know it would have been a mistake not to try.

There are important lessons you can only learn from experiences that test you–times when you failed, when you grieved, when you lost, when you made an ass of yourself. If you never risk losing, you’ll never be great; if you never risk grieving, you’ll never fully love; if you never risk looking foolish, you’ll never be wise. I’m thankful I finally took an opportunity to be foolish and heartbroken for the right reasons. It’s a scar I’ll cherish.

On Friday I think I’ll say more about the other things I’m grateful for. Until then, I hope those who celebrate have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I hope those who don’t have an equally wonderful Thursday. I love you very much.

Joy and health to you all.

Actually, New Grief Sorta Tempting

There’s a scar on my heart.

I don’t think it will ever be “fully” healed (although it got a lot better once I was able to stop picking at it). That’s okay, though; I have a pretty big heart. There’s room on there for lots of scars.

…and for some reason, saying it like that makes me want to get another? I guess it’s like getting a tattoo: once your first has healed, you immediately start thinking about your next one. Or maybe it’s just another way grief is like exercise: sometimes it’s addictive!

I think that’s okay, too. Remember, grief itself isn’t a bad thing: it’s just your mind’s immune system working to heal the sort of hurt you get when you lose something important. You can’t get that kind of hurt unless you let yourself be vulnerable in the first place; let something outside yourself reach in deep and grab hold. To never grieve would mean you’d never fully loved.

I’m proud of myself for being vulnerable, it felt good to open up, and even though it ended badly this time I still want to do it again.

I’m doing a major rewrite of that poem I mentioned a while back–some of the things I wanted to say then aren’t true anymore, and there are things I want to say now that didn’t need saying then–but once it’s finished, I think I’ll finally be ready to post it.

I suppose I’ve grown.