Before going forward, I want to be very clear about a few things. Understand that I am not a clinician or a social worker. I am not a medical doctor, psychiatrist, nor psychologist, nor do I want to be.
I am me and I say this proudly.
I am me without apology, in fact, and before going forward, I am not claiming to be a professional or an authority; however, I someone of experience on the matter.
I cannot say why or how or if I know for certain.
I can only say that I know my love is real.
I know my love is real because
I feel it.
It lives and breathes. It feels and it weeps.
My love is a laugh that I could not live without.
It’s a soft touch.
My love is the feel I get when I hear a name and I realize,
at last, I know I’m not alone.
It was right around this time. I knew something was about to happen. I had not gone all in, just yet.
I had gone back to old behaviors and used old defense mechanisms. I went back to the old coping skills of my previous life. Essentially, I went back to the old me because in the simplest terms, I failed to maintain the new person I had become.
Yesterday was the first hint of spring. The ground is beginning to thaw. I have not seen a red-breasted robin yet but I did watch a brown eagle glide in circles. The eagle swept around behind my house and flew between Horse Stable and Panther Mountain the other day.
One would think I am far from the city but I am not. I am still close but yet I am far enough away that I can disassociate myself with midtown chaos and the Kamikaze cab drivers that speed down Lexington.
This is us. You and me. This is us on an everyday basis.
We are all more relatable than you think. I mean, here we are on Project Earth, basically moving around on this huge conveyor belt we call a planet, trying to find our place in the circle, and at the end of the day, all we want to do is finish strong and come to some kind of constructive conclusion. Whether we get along or find ourselves on the same journey is a different story altogether. Either way, the sun will go down at sunset; and if we’re lucky, we’ll all wake up to see it rise one more time.
Somewhere, there’s a little unknown town with a diner that serves an amazing slice of pie. I imagine this place.
I imagine the people are friendly.
They say things like, “Hello,” and “Good morning,” as they pass each other.
Strangers are welcomed like family and smiles are like currency. This place is the kind of town where everyone knows each.
There is a problem that occurs when we settle for less than what we deserve. The problem is called resentment.
Eventually, we become resentful towards the people we settled for because in all honesty, we are mad at us because we took the trade.
Eventually, we grow frustrated because we traded away our dreams, which, we understood in the beginning. But in the beginning, we believed the that maybe things will turn out in the end. We accepted a smaller return but hey, at least it’s a return.