"Maybe you should write about it."
He said those words as He admired a bruise on my right hip, a bruise left-over from a beating that took place more than a week ago, a bruise that despite it's age, is still very dark and very purple.
"It looks like a kiss," He added.
I looked at it in the mirror, and He was right. It looks like a dark purple kiss.
However, the point in all of this is His words, not the bruise. This was the first time in a very, very long time that's He's mentioned the blog, and my response was to sort of shrug and declare that I didn't know what to do with this place.
And I don't, really, which is the reason for my prolonged absence. I find my writing to be repetitious and boring, which annoys me greatly as our life is anything but repetitious and boring, yet I am unable to convey that through the written word.
But it doesn't matter what I think about this blog, does it?
He likes it. He likes to read what I write. So, if He wants me to write, then I will write, because pleasing Him pleases me.
And in case anyone is wondering why the bruise in question is on my right hip and NOT on my right butt-cheek, well, that's because during the beating He decided it would be cool to give me a racing stripe by smacking me on the side with the cane. Yeah, I know...
See? Things are pretty much still the same around here.