“Then, with my grief at its peak, I bled my pain onto the page, spreading its black inkiness in perfect swooping letters. Raw, concise phrases reviewed the true hurt of fresh loss. How cleansing to cut one’s own heart open and lay it on the page. Cleansing, yet terrifying. These were the feelings most people worked to hide from the outside world – even loved ones who might sympathize. And her I was, setting them down in black and white, ready to ship into a world of strangers who did not know me.”