|A 2013 mixed media artwork|
In my moments of solitude since last week, I have been ruminating on a certain course of action, which I would not even dare seriously plan about, but as of yesterday, I realized I must take that course of action after all.
And then I have been kind of deader than ever.
It is something I totally refuse to do, but I feel it in my core that I must. Otherwise I prolong a current difficult situation where I am at a great disadvantage.
And so I slept on it and upon waking on the wee hours of today, I remembered the decision I have made the day before and I felt ill with dread. I was overcome with fear and I heard myself say that I cannot believe I am doing it when it almost meant the world to me. But then again I am not exactly happy about it, and I am not sure if it is slipping away from me, or perhaps I am slipping away from it at the same time, but there seems to be no intention to grab me at least by my beautiful hair and SAVE ME.
So I must take this course of action. And each minute until its time is so dreadful. I dread the moment itself, and the days and nights after it. Weeks. Months. God, not years. Because it really means that much to me.
Unless, unless, this time, this thing really makes a difference from everyone else and everything else. But I can only wish. Meanwhile, I brave this secret storm.