I'm a complete mess most of the time. Internally, anyway. I'm a mess in a way that most people wouldn't notice. I tend to stress over anything in life that could potentially be worth the energy.
life is scary.
Much like the weather of this early-summer's day in Maine, things can change in the blink of an eye.
Sometimes we crave the change when the weather is too hot or dreary; but sometimes we fear it, foreboding against the only inevitable aspect of life:
it keeps going.
I often find myself caught in a chasm between these two realities. Either I beg for my life to progress and want nothing more than to be reassured of the next thing, or desperately cling to the present, realizing part of the inevitability of life is that this moment is fleeting and there will never be one identical to it.
isn't that terrifying?
I think it is, and I'm sure many of you readers would agree (assuming there are readers out there which I truly hope there are).
but it's good.
It's so good. The rush of the new and strange and foreign and terrifying is reassurance that I'm doing something with my life. Life is stagnant enough at a time to be just within comfort but roves enough to be exciting.
so I'm happy.
I don't know what will happen in a year, a month, or even a week, but I'll let go of what I do not know,
and I'll keep going;