The Ledge

I have so many things on my mind. I feel like I am at the edge of an abyss, a ledge that is mythic in proportions. I feel that I have very unsteady footing on this ground. Behind me is vast desert that is my current existence. The abyss is dark, with just a glimmer of what is at it's end. This glimmer is large enough to catch my attention but small enough that I can't truly see it. If this my hope, my salvation or is this my demise and just a doorway back into the desert?

So I recently attended a Christmas concert that one of my dearest friends was part of. The church she attends and participates in puts on a large Christmas production. A show that I hadn't quite expected. I ended up having to go to this show alone, which I predicted in sorts. Upon getting off of a plane from Charlotte, coming from a Memphis business trip I promptly went downtown to obtain a bouquet of flowers from Bloom for her performance. I have been wanting to visit their store for sometime and have heard great things about it so while in Memphis I made the decision to obtain my flowers from there and had been viewing their site.
I've made one big purchase of flowers before, after a large argument I had gotten into with a former roommate Westin. The only way I felt I could reflect the depth of my sorrow for the argument was with a bouquet of roses mixed with two of his favorite colors. At the POS the cashier said "you'll get em back" so they obviously appeared to be regretful flowers.
These flowers were not of remorse or regret but were flowers meant to show thanks and joy, a congratulations on what I knew was going to be a great performance. The bouquet I got was meant to mimic the Kangaroo Paw, Asters and Roses due to the fact that some of the flowers pictures were not in stock, especially for such short notice. I gave the bouquet prior to her performance and she absolutely loved them and everyone wanted to know who gave them to her. Just walking into the Chapel many people admired them as I walked pass and I realized that the art of giving flowers has been lost. I know one of the greatest experiences I would like to enjoy is the gift of flowers. To experience the receipt of the bounty of beauty that they bring. I love flowers and when I can try to have fresh flowers in my home.

So walking in I might look like an unsure but proud man, a dress nicely with this large bouquet in my hands, finally making contact with Keri is when we arranged a meeting spot upfront and they were hidden enough for her to be surprised.

But sitting in the lobby for a moment, as well as a brief moment in the Chapel's auditorium itself I nearly cry to myself that this is my life, alone.
More often or not I find myself alone to myself in my own thoughts, the complex creature that I have become analyzing myself so thoroughly alone. I often and easily get lost in the tides and flash floods of friendships. Stuck in the temporary enjoyment of having friends around, sharing in the experience of laughs and loves. I discuss these two points because for being a person that is always alone I so desperately desire not to be. (and often feel that this desperation shows)

So sitting here, in the House of the Lord where no one is suppose to be alone I am (because I do not believe in that god and savior). I sometimes wonder if I am suppose to be alone. If I am just not a person that is connected to another. Because of this I often work to break my own heart, work to ensure that I lose feelings for people in my life to separate myself enough that I don't have to be concerned with them.



It hurts to say, maybe I'm suppose to be alone. The proverbial heart aches, the heart that I have worked so hard to block away from myself. That through the work with the PeaceWeavers was reopened.
what I should take in mind is that it closed for a reason, the experiences I've had in my early life taught me that in order to survive I needed to close off that piece of me.

It was easy the first time around, not so much the second. To close yourself off from the world of connectivity, to the state of being "dead".

"So don't say that word, Not the one we both heard too much, You may think you do but you don't, It's just the fear of being alone..." The fear of being alone drives me to want and hunger for connection but it's time to be realistic and face the reality.