I am one of those people who seems to need love in order to find stability… courage… daring… in their life, and yet it has been so sparse in measure. I wonder, sometimes, how much more I could have accomplished if I had felt the way she does, about the knowingness of the foundation underlying the everything upon which all else is built. To feel solid in the binding together of two souls. To realize that nothing else really matters but that.
This is when I feel nostalgic and filled with a soft sadness. Like I’ve missed out on something epic, having tasted it but never truly experienced it fully. True, I have my son, who continues to amaze me simply because he exists, but in many ways I feel lost in my own self, as though I never could figure out what to pull out of myself, and each time I reach in, I miss catching the big fish, coming out with wet hands holding a whole lot of nothing as I watch the fish swim away into my depths again.
So. This is me, on a Tuesday before the last day of my vacation, feeling slightly sad. But grateful nevertheless.