When i figured out i didn't have a life raft anymore, I learned to walk on water. (Not really.)
I've depended on someone being there for me and these past two weeks have taught me that it is a sink or swim deal when the support system goes. It's like death; first the shock, then the sadness, the anger, more shock and anger followed by sadness. By the time I got to that point, I realized I was drowning in depression. I spoke to a few about this but ultimately, even drowning is an act of will. The waters of fate didn't suddenly jump my bones, no. I've been taking on water for a very long time. I was half submerged when my love did the inevitable. So for me there remained only one choice that made sense. Walk on. Walk on by, walk on clouds, walk on water, just walk. I've been in a Forrest Gump kind of way but I don't run. I walk.
Its 8 30 am here in California and I should sleep. I didn't get home till 2 30 this morning. Who'd a thunk it. I was up all night hanging with some friends. Guess what, for a few hours, I got to sit, no drowning, no walking. Ahhhhhh.
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