It’s time now.
Even if we don’t want to or even if we don’t think we can, it’s time now.
It’s time to get up. It’s time to get moving.
No one else is coming.
No one is going to help.
No one is going to hold the door for us.
And no one else is going to save us.
No one else will save us a spot in line.
No one can live for us. No one can forget for us.
No one can take away the pain or erase what happened.
No one.
And we know this.
At least, i think we do.
I agree that there are heroes in the world. I agree that there are angels on earth.
I know this because I have met some. I have hurt some of them too.
Yes, I say this with regret.
You are an angel too.
I say this despite all that’s gone on and all that’s taken place.
I say this despite the wrongs or the secrets or the mistakes and sins. I heartily believe that you are an angel on earth. I love you.
Nothing can change this fact.
Not time.
Not the demons who bit into the flesh of my soul.
No one can take away this fact.
I love you.
I remember hearing the line, “No one has ever been able to maintain anything like perfect adherence.” This was a line in regard to a series of 12 steps and principles that help change one’s life and kick a habit.
I understand this.
So do you, by the way.
We are all human. We all have bad days. We all have weak moments.
Yes, we have all done bad things.
No one can pass their own test.
No one can say that life is perfect. Not at all.
The idea is not to expect this to go away.
But more, we want to find a way to be at our best, even if we feel at our worst.
I drove home last night and saw the sky.
I tell you, the sunset looked perfect. Everything about the sky was beautiful.
The orange hue came through the rain clouds that seemed to be disappearing after a late summer’s rain.
The humidity broke and the rain stopped.
I was emotional.
I started to feel this at my core.
I was hurting, but not totally.
I was recognizing my state of loss and mourning,
but not in a bad way.
Not at all.
The sky was turning red and orange on the west side of town. This was the sun descending into the horizon. I have to say, this was perfect.
The streets were wet but the rain stopped.
I saw this as something hopeful and almost as beautiful as the way I see you, a dream, a hope, and a love that has otherwise been evasive to me throughout my entire life.
And I know.
I get it.
After the rain comes the rainbow.
I understand this all too well.
But the end of the rainbow is where the gold is.
Isn’t it?
Plus, I hate that positive affirmation, happy horseshit.
I don’t need gold.
I don’t need to be the rich one or the big man on campus.
Not anymore.
That goal put me in harm’s way.
I don’t need to have the big house or the best car.
I don’t need the high-priced items anymore.
No.
Too much has changed.
To many things have transpired and while I grant that we can be our worst enemies at times, and people (like me) can certainly paint themselves into a corner and leave no room for escape, no one can stay trapped forever.
Not unless we allow it.
No one can kill me forever either.
Not even me.
The time is showing that summer is coming to an end.
The sun is rising later and the sunset comes earlier now.
But no worries.
The autumn and the foliage makes this side of purgatory look pretty, at least I think so.
Nothing is going to solve the riddles or remove the battles which took place.
No, the history books are free to speak for themselves. As for the interpretation of what happened, let me ask you, does it really matter who was right or wrong?
There are no convictions that can persecute my enemies enough, even if my enemies are only me.
September is around the corner.
So is the date that records my 53rd trip around the sun.
That’s 53 years of ups and downs.
This means I have seen 53 summers and winters.
I have done my time. I have spilled blood, especially my own.
I have held people captive and I have volunteered for my own captivity.
Absolutely.
What now?
What’s next?
What do we do now, you and I?
How do we adapt to this new version of life?
It doesn’t matter anymore.
I always hear people say “this was not supposed to happen.”
I don’t agree with this.
I hear people say “I should have done something about this before.”
What should have happened did happen.
Everything else was just a wish or a hopeful plea.
I never thought that I was good enough. I never thought that you or anyone else would really love me, least of all like me, or feel this way for me on a long-term basis.
Everyone leaves.
Right?
What did this thought do for me?
Where did this leave me, aside from being loveless and alone?
What did this do for others who wanted to know me?
What did this do for those who tried — and I mean how did this impact those who honestly tried to love me? They tried, but no, I allowed the whispers of inner-turmoil and depressive thinking to speak louder than the proof of someone’s actions.
Hence, the reason for this.
Hence, the inspiration for this journal.
Hence the title, “A Way to Stop Drop, and Let Go”
What do we do now?
Where do we go from here?
How do we lay down our arms so that we can live in peace?
How do we stop the biases from expecting the worst?
How do we reprogram our thinking to keep the past from repeating itself?
Sometimes the only right thing to say is goodbye.
Stop pulling at the loose string that unravels the fabric of your existence.
Yes, I get that too.
So do you, I’m sure.
Stop going backwards.
Stop trying to recreate or change what happened.
There is no way to undo or unsay what was said.
You can’t get anything back this way, least of all the years we’ve wasted on sinking in emotional quicksand.
Goodbyes are not so bad.
They are the hand which closes the door behind us.
Goodbye is the word that ends the chapter.
Hello is the word that welcomes our new thing.
I am almost at an end here.
It’s time for a new start, which has already begun.
You were always in the cards for me.
You were always intended for me and yes, you are always mine the same as I will always be yours.
But here’s the real kicker.
Here’s the real question.
What are we going to do now?
This is all that matters.
Anything before now is gone.
I have no choice but to say goodbye to so many things.
I have to stop, drop, and let go.
As for the question, what now?
The truth is I don’t know.
But we are about to find out.
That’s for sure . . .
The Written Addiction 