My therapist prompted me to rethink my blog. She asked me if I would consider stopping. She is concerned that it serves as a message in a bottle, another way to reach out(perhaps too desperately) to the world and those in it I wish would embrace me. So I sat and thought. Images of Job sitting shiva, seated in an ash heap, waiting in silence.

I decided to keep writing. Because as the wise old women who speak to Esperanza towards the conclusion of The House on Mango Street, it will keep me free.