I don't know why some people are dealt such a difficult hand. I sit here, feeling so blessed, and yet, I feel guilty for not living their life.
Not that my life is perfect—I have my own personal anxieties and fears and a past of my own. Still nothing I have comes near to the pain and the anguish that others face. It's impossible for me to carry all of that . . . stuff for them. I wish I could. As I struggle to feel the emotions that they feel, and to—even express a small part of how it twists my soul—from my shoulders to the space between my rib cage and my stomach—I find myself standing slightly alone.
I'm not.
But now? I find myself presented with an opportunity to walk away from it all. And it's proving much more difficult to do than it was before I bought the plane ticket.
5 comments:
I'm hearing traces of an RS President, but no idea about the plane ticket...?!
Where are you going? Hope it's exciting!
PORTLAND! I think it will be VERY exciting.
Yay for family! Is this a longer visit than a "Hey, how are ya?"
No matter what other people's problems are not your problems. You can't take their problems and put them on your own shoulders, you would be a basket case if you did and I don't hang out with basket cases. :)
Post a Comment