Wait.

Well, I’m here.

I don’t feel insecure anymore, but I do feel invincible. Even though I know invincibility won’t last forever, I keep hoping that it will. No one ever wants to deal with the bad feelings, do they? But it’s part of life.

The last few nights have been unseasonably warm. It was easy to sit out, watching the streetlights burn past the post of my balcony. To feel some sort of magic as the breeze placed a gentle hand on my face, my arms, the tops of my feet. I’ve been wearing moccasins because they are comfortable, and my feet get so achy from standing and waiting and, of course, toeing the line.

I still want to write a book but there is not enough peace in my life. A sad excuse because there is never enough peace in my life, nor will there ever be. I want to get through school first. I want to let the future give me an inkling of what’s in store, first. Instead of these fragile dreams I keep locked into my muscles, because it is too early to let them fly. I will know the right time.

In any case, I am wandering, stoic in class, determined for order in my apartment, apathetic as can be managed at work. Because the feelings cannot yet be released. I am waiting. See the pattern, here?

I figure I am not making much sense.

Love,
Amanda