confession: i haven’t practiced the piano in weeks.
confession: i haven’t done most of what i’m supposed to do in months.
confession: i freaked out on monday morning and then again on tuesday afternoon. monday morning’s freakout was resolved with a miraculous shift in a relationship. tuesday afternoon’s freakout was resolved with the purchase of two airline tickets and the supportive understanding of another.
confession: i didn’t think he could ever hurt me again. i was wrong. but this hurt held a lesson for me. this hurt showed me where i hold an attachment and what i need to release in order to be more enlightened. i’m happy that he is marrying her. i wish he hadn’t proposed to her at my special spot, the spot where i took him the first night we spent together.
confession: coffee dates are perfect, but i’d prefer more mexican martinis.
confession: he and i are more magnificent friends than we know. we thank one another everyday. but if we knew, if we could fully comprehend how unusual and unconditional we are with one another, our hearts would gape open with gratitude and we’d realize that we’re winning.
confession: i want to give it all away. i want to let it all go. nothing significant stops me. i’m ready to leap. i’m ready for a crashing fall or flight.
confession: if i moved to tokyo for a year, i’d never be the same. if i moved to tucson for a year, i wouldn’t change much. i want tokyo. i want tucson. why do i still live in austin? i ask myself this question each week.
confession: i feel guilty for not doing enough, for not showing up, for needing more than i can ask for.
confession: i’m supposed to be in two places at once tonight. i’ll be in neither. i’ll be somewhere else. it seems that i’m usually somewhere else, even when i intend to be where i’m expected.