It seems - though unintentional - I caused unnecessary concern among some readers in regards to my last picture post. And all I can say is I'm sorry for having a melt down moment, proving just how dangerous I can be with scissors and a roll of scotch tape in my hand, when not feeling very warm and fuzzy at all.
The simple fact is this. For the past nine years, I've looked at that picture everyday wondering where the hell that girl has gone to. And for the past nine years, the answer has remained unchanged. Because I'm ashamed to say, that I just don't know. Sometimes I think I catch glimpses of her, and then I look again into the mirror, and find no trace to say she was ever there. And I feel lost.
Lost and disconnected, as if I am fragments of a self that exists only behind a pane of glass. Photographic evidence of the me that was before, and not this me that is now. And I wonder if that makes any sense at all to anyone other than myself.
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1 comment:
I think I know where that girl is and I think you do too. I also think that the significant date that is fact approaching is giving you pause (as well as it should). However, how you choose to view the moment is 100% up to you...I always felt it was just another chapter. Chapters have the wonderful ability to allow us to chart a new course,intensify the path we are already on, bring more characters into our lives and examine from whence we came and where we ae going. Draw your own map, find the girl and start a new chapter.
I remain as always, your biggest fan.
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