Before I knew what I know now….

I know our story is in me, all around me, in the farthest reaches of my world. It’s ready to come out, to sail across white paper seas. But I am anchored. Am I waiting for the outcome? I’ve got to get through this, if that’s possible. I’ve got to believe I will survive. Let me envision myself whole at the end of this. In January I will be reborn. And it will be a new year. You are the corruption of my path or the destination – I’m not sure which yet. I wish I believed in destiny but instead I know it’s all fluid. And what’s worse is all this waiting. Time is our wretched enemy. It always has been. Well, time and your need to leave, and my mistake of not asking you to stay.

I hate Australia.

Thinking of you makes me nervous and it’s beginning to seem too real. I am so afraid to lose our fiction. I want things smooth and unblemished but it’s beginning to get rough. I can feel our skin turning to sandpaper. We are getting gritty.

August 2, 2006
Revised October 30, 2006