A confession of sorts at the close of this summer. More like, I just really want to unload for a minute.
It has been a challenge for me to write since last summer. I have continued onward, yet I know what I have carried with me for over a year, with another unexpected load of harsh reality just recently. It has all been heavy to bear. It has been something I didn't think I deserved. I have wondered why I am where I am.
Alas, it is reality. I allowed myself to have this setback. Disappointment has settled in for a good long stay despite Hope prodding it to leave, reminding me of my humanity. It is not easy to carry on with no one beside you. It gets messy in different ways. There is no one but yourself to rely upon in a pinch, and you make mistakes. Lots of them some days. And sometimes for innumerable days in a row. And it's okay to admit that.
Nevertheless, I have continued to write—not as consistently as I would like, not as broad in topics as I would prefer—but I did not quit. I have not yet quit. I am determined to never quit. And that is something to hold onto while I find home or home finds me.
Because as much as we might wish it, wanting a home and having a home are decidedly two different things. For now, I'm at the train depot looking at the empty seats trying to find a perspective to keep me warm until my final destination is in sight.