As I posted earlier, I have been writing today. I thought I would share an excerpt:
Her emotions were overflowing. Spilling out.
Keeping it all inside of her was becoming a bigger burden than exposing her emotions.
She was weary. Weary of declining invitations and fighting the dread that accompanied a list of social obligations. Weary of psyching herself up to get through the few she committed herself to.
Exhausted from pushing through every arduous day of work. Pretending she was fine. The smiling face. The fake laugh. It fooled everyone but her.
When she did allow herself to break down and cry to the point of sobbing, thus finding relief, it was but a brief respite before it all built up again. That kind of relief was sweet, but short lived.
I'm not sure what will happen in my character's story. Or what choices my character will make or where her story will take her. Or what will become of her in the end. That is what is so amazing about writing. It is a journey that I will walk with her.