Life as an Extreme Sport

On The Right Path

I suppose you’re surprised by this. You’re probably wondering where the links went, did I have a change of heart, or … what? Or what is really the right answer, but so vague I really should explain. So, let me explain.

When I started writing this, this diary, this journal, this window into my mind and soul, I was grieving. And I thought I would be grieving for a long time; months, if not longer. Years had crossed my mind. Mars was such an integral part of my life; I didn’t define my own identify from him, but he was my cornerstone, my foundation, my strength. My mate and match, complimenting and contrasting my strengths and weaknesses. So I thought, so I believed.

And then, and then. The oddest thing began to happen. I slowly remembered that I had breathed before Mars, I had stood on my own two legs, I had needed no cornerstone or foundation other than what I myself had laid and poured. My strength was myself, no one else. And then I began to believe it.

You’ve probably noticed that the entries, though never prolific, have become scarce even by my pattern of posting. Although some of my life is in limbo, notibly that revolving around work, I am at peace. I find myself thinking less and less of Mars, and when I do, it’s with sad (sometimes even fond) remembrance; the pain is lessoning, and will continue to do so. I’m sure I will still feel the need to write about him, my thoughts and feelings about him. But I have found, lately, that I want to write about other things, people and events as well. I’ve enjoyed flexing my fingers, finding my thoughts and seeing it appear before me, and I’m tired of confining myself to this one area. I think I’m finally on the right path. You’re welcome to take a peek , or even come along for the ride. I know it will be interesting.

Oh, and Jenna? Fredrik? I owe you, both.