If I wasn't scared, I'd be sacred. It's more than a matter of moving one letter two spaces. For over a month now, I've felt like I am on the cusp of ... something. Even when I am not allowing myself to push forth, I'm pushing myself not to be pushing forth. It's tiring, but I can't seem to stop asserting pressure on myself in one way or the other.
Altho this whole thing with Scott and his betrayal has been extremely painful; I can acknowledge and even appreciate that being freed from the constant need to reassure him, I am able to grow at my own speed instead of holding myself back for fear that I would leave him far behind. In many ways, I feel like I have been able to unfurl my wings and stretch them; fluttering the fragility, strengthening my own self so that I can take flight. Part of me does mourn the loss of his presence in my life, but most of me is turning more to a forward focus.
I do hate that this devastation happened, and quite possibly it was necessary that something of this magnitude transpired in order for me to let the safety that stymied my own growth go. Some days, the pain immobilizes me; most days, I feel raw and new, becoming more and more weathered and cured. This process is truly a matter of growing pains, some agony may yield sparkling shine. That is my fervent hope, that this all is not for nothing.
say g'nite debbie