What's meant to be will always find a way”

            I went for a walk today. It was like any other, sandy footsteps along our roadside and then down by my house, close to our cool Maine waters. The sun was clear today and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I stopped and wondered how did I end up here? Did I make the right choices? Was there anything I could do to prevent the bad things from finding me? Was I good enough? Did they like me? Did I make a good impression? Can I live with what I have done and myself? I smiled at myself, over thinking again which is something not uncommon with my ways and me. I tend to think too much, which is why I am here writing to you all out there in the cyber space. I tend to think of you all as itty-bitty stars blanketing the dark chemical fixtures of the online galaxy, each one of you so perfect in your own ways, so beautiful and meaningful in your own lives. I have trained myself to think that way about myself as well. You need to. You need to love who you are and what you do. I figured it out one night when I was looking up at that starry sky. In that one moment I told the hatred to fuck off and welcome love. I don’t regret that decision. I don’t regret the many bad choices I made which got me to this stage in my life. Each stage that created the being I am. The only regret I have is that I didn’t care enough about myself. I didn’t care enough about my family or those around me whom I affected with my bad choices.  It’s pointless to dwell on the past, but these are the thoughts that enter my mind as I sit quietly here down by the water.

"Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense."

            I have tons of regrets I realized, some of which I will never know if perhaps could’ve changed my outcome.  Maybe I wouldn’t be alone. Maybe I wouldn’t be fighting this addiction. Maybe I wouldn’t be so broken. There was a boy I once knew, who was always there for me. He was my unicorn.  The piece of my puzzle that made my picture look incredibly beautiful. He wanted to kiss me one day and I declined, being only 7 years old. I was too afraid. Fear. I have learned to overcome this terrible feeling since that day. His smile still keeps me awake at night as he died soon there after.  Never did I get to give him his simple kiss. It was stolen from me. My puzzle has never been whole since that moment.  It was meant to be apparently, but what does that actually mean? I ask myself questions like this all the time. Questions that just have no answers, none logical anyway. I regret not telling my great grandmother how important she was to me the last day I saw her. I was in too much of a hurry to go. I had to go see a movie with friends, friends who turned out to be nothing but a waste.  I regret not being kinder to those who needed kindness and I regret not seeing the world with my eyes wide open as I missed so much with them half closed.  I wiped the tears from my eyes, shaking my head. It does no good to think about this. The only thing I can do now and live my life the best I can without any regrets. I see too far sometimes, maybe I am too nice or too kind…maybe I just don’t want to miss anything. Maybe I am tired of living with my eyes closed to what really means something to me. I want to see and I want to enjoy everything and one day finds that piece of my missing puzzle and takes back that kiss which was stolen. Maybe one day.

"Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.”