An accepting nod

Imogen Heap ‘Say Goodnight and Go’

Seperation is not always a negative thing. It’s how I should handle my, uhh, career. Seperate myself.

Life throws a curve ball now and then. As a rational adult, one has to dodge it. Step back and watch it fly past your head, hear the rush of the problem, or the opportunity as it passes you by.

May. Now I don’t have a choice, or a decision to make. I suppose I’ve been done a great favour by not having to choose, or chance. You see, I had two options, pulling me each in their direction, and it was breaking me apart. A restless mind is never condusive to clear thinking. Finally I went down a road I had been before, the familiarity of it comforting, no matter how rough the path ahead looked. Now what I might have had, what I could have chosen will slip away, out of sight, and some day out of mind. It’s not for lack of feeling, it’s the degree of seperation.

Six months. The timing a flawless reminder I’ll have chased a shadow for a full year. It’s as if I’m losing all over again. I lost Auto in May, a quiet bowing off stage, behind curtains, as I stood bewildered for an encore. Will I still be following behind? Will I have intensified my loss and feel the little pinch of loss from another? Lets hope I’m wrong. Though, in some professions saying goodbye is an unavoidable certainty. In the case of distressed mechanics, feelings could change with the weather, or stay constant, yet secret. Either way, I am unschooled in the subject of male emotion. 

I still stand by my decision. Regrets are for deathbeds, and not for the reformation of a young and floundering life.