This has been a week of last-times and long-agos but mostly I have been facing the fact that I am still fighting the last war. Changes I thought were soul-searched and hard-bitten are re-runs of strategies that have failed me before. It unnerves me to realize I am not brave enough to risk a different way. Not yet, anyway.
But maybe it isn’t so important. Does it matter so much if I get it wrong, again? Amidst all my screw-ups – perhaps even due to their epic persistence – I have learned something about love. My friend said it, and I wrote it down: You have to connect to good people. Otherwise it’s just too fucking hard. That’s something to hold on to. And the yard is always full of sparkles.