I used up a whole pen. It took many months.
I write in a spiral notebook every day. I use a Pentel black fine point pen.
Nothing fancy.
But that pen finally gave out today.
I took a few moments to be grateful.
The ink that spilled out for me.
Onto the page, faithfully, day after day, the ink helped me to move forward in my life.
One letter at a time, one word at a time.
One day, one moment at a time.
The ink spilled out and so did my heart.
My thoughts, my words.
My hopes and dreams.
Plans, lists, complaints.
The pen and ink worked to help heal me. Writing dependably every day.
My praise, my worship, my prayers.
The pen and ink never complained if they formed lovely words
or words of bitter anger that had to be voiced somewhere.
The pen and ink and page keep their silence and their secrets
so that I could scream into the notebook if I had to.
How wonderfully grateful I am.
Time to look for a new pen.
lifefullyinhabited 