Still Waking Up

The longest two days of my life. A million questions. No good answers. Facing hopes, disappointments, dreams, disillusionments. A conscious, non-impulsive choice. The kind I hate to make. Content to abandon all my other foolish choices for a chance at intimacy. Feeling connected. For the hope that my love was not in waste.

If I keep meeting half-opened hearts, what does that say about mine? I thought I had laid it out bare, beating nakedly and irrhythmically for all to see. How could I love any greater? How can I be any wealthier? What more can I give?

My wheels won’t stop spinning. Something is missing. Can’t tell if love and peace or action will save me this time. Still too many irons in my raging little fire. Some have been sitting there too long.

Cleaning out my spaces. Clearing out the clutter. Could life be so simple and free? The what-if game is noisy, I just want some peace. Some rest, some wisdom, some focused fucking effort. A sense of knowing when to say when.

Plan A crumpled and tossed.

I don’t trust myself yet to take care of me and I feel like I bought all their lies.