Stop

When my eyes opened this morning, after dreaming of the desert, I realized that my world had stopped spinning.

It was 6:00 a.m. and everything was dark, save for the glow of my alarm clock. I sat up and swung my feet over the side of the bed. I stared at the floor and thought of the desert. (The dream made little sense, as is typical for my dreams. I was dressed for a blizzard, standing on a cliff in the desert, staring down into a narrow river. I wanted to jump in...) The sunrise was moments away, I knew, but I turned to wedge my fingers in between the blinds just to double-check. Darkness. Back to the clock. Three minutes had elapsed since my alarm went off. Just a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

Time works that way when you realize just how lonely you feel.

Over the past several months, I have loved and I have lost. Some fell to natural causes, a couple were taken away by the fickleness of the human heart, and one was murdered. I moved, I worked, I ran, I tried, and I didn't stop. Life swelled like a tidal wave in front of my eyes. But the end result of these difficult months is this: I am alone. And completely by choice.

Change is often thrust upon us... and sometimes, we have to choose it.

The tolls have made my heart heavy and left me without the desire to write a single word. The blank page wasn't an enemy - I simply had nothing to say. This terrified me because writing has always been my fail-safe. When little else made sense, I had words and pens and empty lines on paper and they always helped. But, this year, it's been increasingly difficult for me to get what lies in my head and heart out... the disconnect was everywhere.

But I am determined to find my way back to the page, back to words. I know life runs in cycles and this cycle is a rough one. But although there has been little poetry and much drama, both comedic and tragic, I know that it has not all been bad. The tears and upheaval have been punctuated with bright stars, laughter, and glimpses of a blue horizon. There were many good days. I hold onto those minutes of happiness because I have to.

This morning, I felt alone. Tonight, I am surrounded by words and a couple of blank pages. It is a solitary comfort, but I'm grateful for it.