I am the Hermit. Standing in my own storm, torch in hand, taking myself apart, so I can finally heal and put myself back together right.
A teddy bear survived twenty-seven years and two countries, over twenty moves. It took one distracted afternoon to pull her apart and me with her. But we are both being sewn back together. Stitch by stubborn stitch.
Where I am tracing back a habit to its origins, to find it was an act of self-loathing born from disastrous life and a traumatic relationship.
2026 is the year of farewells. What I did not expect was that losing things, the medication, the nicotine, the woman who made me who I am, would force me to finally look at what was left standing.
He left twenty thousand pounds of debt and a hollow ground beneath my feet.