The highs have been high and the lows have been low this week. In the last two weeks I've celebrated surviving a year in Denver and one of the best birthdays ever. I had a sense of hope connected to the commemoration of these two events - hope that things were starting to take a turn. Hope that as summer turned to fall and year one turned to year two that things are getting better. Easier. I had (and I suppose technically still have) a couple of new things in the works that for a moment or seven felt like confirmation, like a sign that things were turning around. I felt the happiest I had in at least a year if not more. And then those things seemed to evaporate. They fell off the radar screen. And I'm left with questions:
- Did I read the signs wrong?
- Did I say something wrong?
- Do I keep hoping?
- What's so hard about picking up the phone?
- Do I keep trying to move forward?
- Do I buck it up and just make the best of what I have?
- Did I put my hope in the wrong path?
- What's coming next?
- Did I just get too eager?
- Is the next fall going to be harder because the high was higher?
And that's just the tip of the iceberg. An iceberg that's cold at night when I'm trying to sleep but looks harmless during the day. One that was beginning to melt and I sincerely believe will probably always be there - and hopefully will start melting a bit soon so that one day, long from now, it's a little cube. One I can drop in an umbrella drink and be done with.
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