The Quiet

So I'm on a boat on the way home. Didn't tell too many people about this trip simply because I'll only be around for a day or two and I've really got stuff on my mind. It's been a lot of years since things have changed- since I've changed, and in a day or two I'm going to let some people in on what those changes have been.

I expect the worst. It's my nature. I'm a pessimist, but not really the hopeless kind. What I mean by that is that I anticipate negative outcomes just so I can plan ahead on those eventualities if they arise. The only problem with that is, way before that eventuality actually occurs, I already live in the emotional trauma of what that outcome would be like.

It doesn't seem too long ago, being alone in my dorm room in my first year of college, looking for the truth. Looking for something honest. It doesn't seem too long ago when I said my prayer.

But then I remember all the stuff I've gone through. The secret things. The painful things. Loves and friends lost. The crumbling of dreams and expectations. The tolls no one really knew I had. The death of the dreamer. Then yes I realize, it has been such a long time afterall.

I'm glad I took the boat. Aside from the fact that flying scares me, I've found some semblance of peace and clarity so evasive from everywhere else I am. I can can almost say that I am unafraid.

I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not going to think anymore. I just know where I've been. And I am tired.

....

"A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt to be dangerous." - Alfred Adler