A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Two-Hundred-And-Thirty-Seven

Melissa and I went out to dinner with my brother tonight and it was largely pleasant, which can be difficult with everything that has been going on.  Perhaps it is a positive sign, in general, but I worry, if I am honest about jt, that there is a sort of forced quality, not in a way that is overt and superficial, but in a sort of need we each put forth to keep from being fully honest with each other.  A lot of tension is still there, for everyone, I am certain, and it is good we can spend time together, but I wish it felt as if it were part of a deeper resolution to the real problems, and not just a feeling of letting them exist unaddressed and being nice about it without making things better.  This is rather a harsh assessment, I think.  I mean, there is a certain genuine care and love that exists and I am not going to deny that, and I recognize that there is a value in connecting even if other matters remain, but I cannot deny a fear of accepting things as they are without it actually improving.





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