I want to love you.
I want to be loved.
I want to be loved by you.
I want to feel attractive and beautiful.
I want to be connected.
I want to know that I am important and respected.
I want to be active.
I want to be understood.
I want to be seen.
Where do I go from here?
I’m afraid to be who I am…to be a writer.
I’m afraid to express myself every day…to be a writer.
I’m afraid to explore because I know I’ll make progress..progress that will inevitably take me away from here, from this present moment..and I’m not ready to leave yet. I’m seemingly content to remain static..not regressing, not growing. And yet, is there the unmistakable characteristic of neglecting to MAKE progress actually being a substantial, yet subtle, form of regression in its own right? By failing to move forward toward a goal, is one in fact taking away from the experience of fullness that might have resulted from a steady progression? Put another way, does an extended pit stop along a journey take away from the ultimate experience