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From one corporate America to a different type.
We float.

I ruminate too long on the state of the world. The economy. Our inability to continue treading water.

Is ours a doomed generation?

They say the 401k won’t be enough. They say “nothing is like it used to be.”

And it isn’t.

We are 30 days away. 30 days.
30 days from THE day.
And that white dress doesn’t fit.
I pulled inches tighter around my waist. I needed 6 inches off the ground.

I don’t know why I put it on expecting it to be perfect. To fit like a glove.

I just didn’t want anything to derail me. Or postpone me.

Because I had made up my mind that this was it.

 

But you start seeing the world through your retrospective glasses, and you play the “what if” game with yourself.

You are held by arms that used to hold you.

And you are safe again.

For an instant, until you remember that there are battles being fought everywhere.

<span style="mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;mso-ascii-theme-font:
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color:#1F497D;mso-themecolor:dark2″>There are literal and emotional bombs exploding.

Inside. Outside. Underneath.

They are everywhere.

 

And you just aren’t ready to be that adult.

I was ready to be grown before I even hit 16.

Ready to be out.

And here I am, days away from my wedding.

Panic stricken over the dress and the past.

 

You do not step over feelings like this.

You wade through them, chest deep – until you reach the other side.