Every time I stare uncertainty in the mouth my heart begins to race and ache with a kind of desperation that has become familiar to me. For someone who thrives on control, not knowing what the future holds is in turns maddening and terrifying. Last night was yet another night of Not Sleeping, tossing and turning, surrounded by a wall of pillows as though trying to protect myself from the demons of unrest that hound me so.
Sometimes I compare my mind to a greyhound chasing after one of those mechanical rabbits. It tenses and then explodes toward a particular train of thought, ever fiber strained and working like the gears on a clock. And yet the target is always out of reach, pulled along by some invisible force determined to rob me of my resolve. I am left exhausted and unsatisfied.
What if I could control my own destiny? Would life be easier? Harder? Perhaps I would finally be afforded peace from this mist of confusion that now envelopes my consciousness.
I try to earn grace, but it never works. The future is the future, and if I learn to accept that now then I will become stable and well-rounded and at peace and oh God who am I kidding, the future scares me to death and no matter how dissatisfied I am with the present, at least it’s here.
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