Shrapnel.
I was hit with a metaphorical bombshell on the drive back from Camphill Saturday night. It is extremely unfortunate that in a way I was expecting to be hit with it, but was hoping beyond any sort of normalcy that my feelings were wrong, they weren’t.
I saw the aftermath this morning, I cannot find the appropriate words to describe how I feel, there really isn’t anything I can say or do that would affect change toward the positive. Well, there is, but it means taking a leap and giving up so much of what is familiar… on either side.
I feel so powerless, nervous, unsettled… I want to do something… I need to do something… My heart sinks…
This is so very difficult, but part of love is being there in the bad times to provide as much support as is possible. Sometimes it feels as though it is too much, but I only need to think about those good moments, and in reality they’re quite numerous.
I just hope that my planning for the future hasn’t endangered the present. I’m currently unable to provide escape, but I have a feeling that even if I were able, the offer wouldn’t be accepted anyway.
For now all I can really offer is a promise, one with absolutely every intention to be kept, and the thought of jack & coke on the deck while watching the sunrise together.