Starting Over

Forgiven and Remembered

I haven't written a blog in so long, I've forgotten what they're used for.

And yes, I have been living with the rest of you folks in this internet crazed world. 

I just suppose I haven't... well... been bothered with writing it.

No. That's wrong and I will be honest. I'm terrified of them. 

The prospect of words following me minutes, days, years after I've written them

words so raw and emotional that I can only relate to them in the moment.

And the fact that anyone's eyes can see them?

Pure terror. 

But today, I've decided, to forgive the muse inside me.

The soul that guides my thoughts and allow whatever I need to, 

to be typed down without reserve.

I love.

Pretty much that sums up where I'm at with life in this second.

I'm so enamored with everything around me that I'm constantly filled to the brim with it.

I can't help but think most people are amazing

but I am also so green with envy that sometimes my love for them gets tainted,

twisted into something I can't recognize, until it hits me.

And trust that it hits me hard.

It's not that I blame anyone else, it's just that I see where I'm faulted.

I still consider it love, because I know that the jealousy will pass 

I'll come to remember that I can be great too and the love for myself will be cleansed.

Sounding preachy and peachy and a tad bit puke worthy?

Good.

Because everyone needs a good bit that makes them so disgustingly thankful

They just want to lose it.

So, you're welcome.

I've been writing a novel that is a mess.

It's sticky and has been put everywhere like old chewed gum.

In fact I can refer to it as the detention desk.

However, I'm amazed by it. Proud even. Because guess what?

Even if it's rickety and unstable, it's mine. Completely and undeniably. 

I can find tiny little bits of me in every paragraph and that makes me so insanely happy

that I can't even control myself and begin to write some more.

It's a cycle I'm glad to continue.

The other thing I wanted to put down tonight is my lack of direction.

At least, it feels that way.

Just lost.

I spent all of November so focused on NaNo that I forgot everything else.

It's now December 

and everything as well as nothing came back.

My job's still the same, my husband's still the same, my friends are still distant.

The problems didn't go away either.

So, all I can think of is: NOW WHAT?

It's a distant sort of question and I'm chasing down the answer.

I'll have an update when I catch it.

I promise not to leave you on a saddened note

or any problem point for that matter.

Instead I'll tell you about my horrible habit of buying presents.

I love to buy

and buy

and buy.

I can't help the joy I get from knowing someone so well,

that I can pick out something so perfect I know they'll love it.

They'll smile so fully that I second guess the sincerity of it

(even though I know they're truly thankful)

It's a gift most don't have. My husband included.

They just don't understand the point and I try not to see there's

because in truth, there is no point.

It just is and that's one thing I'm happy without having logic attached to.

Sometimes happiness just is and sometimes, just sometimes

 it needs to stay that way.