I read a great blog post earlier that I want to share. The post is very heartfelt about the “one that got away”. I love that he was able to share his emotions, but still realize as he says in the last lines…I am glad that my windshield is bigger than my rearview mirror, I have so much to see that is ahead of me and I can’t be distracted by what is behind me. It’s just plain dangerous thinking.
It is amazing what can be conjured up from the dark recesses of the psyche. So many experiences laying dormant, waiting for the right odor or sound or phrase to bring it to the forefront of your mind. Yesterday, as I now see was a poorly planned but heartfelt post about being passionate, I accidentally triggered myself. In attempting to tell a story, I forced myself to think about her…the one that got away. Now I can’t chase the memories out of my head.
I have stated in previous posts that I have never really been happy. I don’t say this in a please feel bad for me way, I’m not like that. I say it because for the longest time I have felt a bit numb, detached and joyless as if I’m on the outside looking in at my life. I’m there but I’m not present. I now know…
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