My last post was a compulsion.  Most of my writing here is a compulsion. An itch to lyrically vomit the thoughts in my mind so that I can go about the business of being me.

My compulsions tend to be rooted in historically relevant triggers that I spend the bulk of my days and nights trying not to trip.

My subconscious though refuses to be denied and I find myself often cleaning up the mess of those triggers so that my present is not totally consumed by my past.

In my first full month of independent living post the incident I am mostly managing things well.  I hit a set back this week, but unlike others I managed to salvage most of the wreckage.  I tripped but I didn’t land.  It was more of a stumble, and one that I don’t have to do again.

The stumble wasn’t expressing my desires though.  That was one right thing that happened even though the outcome could be all wrong.

Expressing that desire, need, the proper word escapes me at the moment….

Expressing that was right, because it reminds me that I can feel alive again.  I can live again.

I don’t have to wait for “perfection” that thing which tends to elude me.  I can make moves that will put me into a position to receive.

What I fear at the moment though is my ability to give.

That girl who walked into this life is dead. Her ghost walks the drifting roads of my grey matter but she cannot ever breathe again.  That is a problem when the thing that I want requires her innocence and not my cynicism.

As I slowly revisit that community which both starves and feeds that segment of my soul, I question if what I desire can be found.

I allowed myself to settle for the impossible because the potential scared me.

Even today I prepare for whimsical glimpses of what I daydream of while understanding that it means lighting must strike again.

I can have moments but I want substance.

I can have crumbs but I want the loaf.

As I sit and wait to see if my kite sails, I ask myself is it really that impossible for me to find……..IT or do I need to subject myself to the old comfortable for as long as it lasts?

I don’t have an answer today, and unfortunately tomorrow doesn’t look promising either.

Aphrodite Brown