The Fear of Loss

Doing the right thing, unequivocally, often means doing the hard thing.  Sometimes, the right thing prevents the wrong thing and sometimes it fixes it after the wrong thing has already happened. Or at least attempts to patch it up somewhat.  But the "right thing" always needs doing, no matter how unpopular it may be.

I want to write more...it feels like more wants to be written, but it's not presenting itself.  I could wait and write up a whole draft when I do have more, but I really wanted to at least post this much.

Yours In Writing

Well then...

It seems recently in my life that with one answered question , another one pops up.  I do the brave thing.  I pour my heart out.

Let me tell you.  It felt amazing.

Oh I didn't feel good for a couple of days. But. It was a good discomfort.  And if the parties concerned happen to read this, let it be known, I'd do it again.  I should have done it a long time ago.  But you know that already.

When I did begin to feel good again, an understanding settled upon me.  I can do this with everyone when applicable.  I could never tell people how I felt about them in high school; never had the ability, or rather the follow through. (Now having typed that, I realize I did, in fact, tell a few people.  The rejection scared me however, preventing me from continuing in that fashion, instead of giving me the wisdom and courage to carry on.)  I have that now.

But.  Here's the "but".  While it's true that gone is the fear of loosing a friendship through the confession of feelings (if the friendship is strong enough and if it was true, it will be resilient and strengthen), my concern now is that what if I share how I feel with too many people.  How to do I choose?  It sounds dumb but I'm at square one...I'm just looking at a different side of the square.

Your's In Writing

At the lake.

An excerpt from journaling on the 24th of august while at the cabin.

It’s 7:44.  Early for me on vacation but actually, I’d like it to be the norm.  I set my alarm for 6.  It went off and my dad came and told me to shut it off.  I felt bad for waking him (and probably mom too) and part of me wanted to go back to sleep.  But somewhere inside of me, the will power to get up took over.  And I’m ever so glad it did.  The previous night, as I have done all nights that we have been here this summer, I pulled the new picture window’s blinds down.  They have this feature where after the shades are down you can pull the top down so that the bottom half (or whatever portion you desire) is shaded but the top is uncovered.  I have done this so that the sun, as it rises, can come in through the window and shine on the rock fireplace wall across the room without blinding me when I wake up.  Shade or not shade, the rising sun coming in through the window gives the room a sort of orange glow.  I believe that this illuminating color was also part of the reason for me being able to pull myself out of bed.  Dad was up already from telling me to turn my alarm off. Together, we looked out the window at the morning sun, slowly climbing up over the treetops about a half-mile across the lake.  And just as beautiful as the sun was rising in the sky, the lake itself was even more so.  The water was as it always is while the sun rises: glass.  I then threw on some shorts and a t-shirt, nearly jumped into my slippers, grabbed my camcorder, hit record and walked down to the lake.  Down the stairs.  Across the grass.  Down some more hill. This is a time of morning that’s so short and I wanted to capture it.  I had the desire the last time we were here earlier this summer but that “pull” of out of bed never occurred.  I had let sleep get the better of me.  I stepped out onto the dock and made my way toward the end.  I took some video with the camera and then decided the clip was too long so I took the same video with some short clips.  The water was moving a little now but they weren’t even ripples.  It’s amazing how much the lake changes in just a short amount of time.  In the 20 minutes it’s taken me to write this, the wind has picked up and waves have begun—nothing like the Great Lakes or certainly the oceans.  It’s certainly still quite calm but it’s bustling compared to before.   Time for coffee.

Floating

As she laid peacefully on her back in the water of that little lake, with the only disturbance being the ripples her body was making, she was mentally drowning in a sea of emotion.  She had donned a life jacket and was floating just past where she could no longer touch the bottom wither her feet.  She had had butterflies before but not these butterflies.  The last time she felt this way was five years ago.  The last time she had seen him.

Happy 50th Posting!

I always do this,  it's been a month again.  And SO MUCH has happened.  It's been a roller coaster.  I went to Minnesota to our cabin.  And to the MN state fair.  I was brave, I was sad, I reconnected with one of the best friends I've ever had (no rhyme intended) and I grew as a person.   And yes those are all grouped together for a reason.  Dad and I got swimmers itch or chiggers or something. Saw family I only see a couple times a year (and I think got closer to them as well).  More specific details of trip to come (I hope).  Or I'll be lame again and not post anything for a month.  Only time will tell.