I have a collection of books on my desk. They are a re-creation set, and when lined up in order on a shelf, the spines of the books create a wonderful illustration. I don’t have a shelf to put them on.

I have a framed picture on the floor, leaning against a book case (that’s full). I don’t have a wall to put the picture on.

I have an image in my head of me at a lake house, looking out at the water and enjoying how far I’ve come and all the work I had to do to get there. I do not have a lake house.

I have what I consider to be future memories; ideas of things that haven’t happened yet. Some of them might never happen. Some of them will. We all have these things and a lot of people call them dreams, but dreams are in your head and I want a place for these things. I want to be able to see where I’m going and know that I’m on the right path. It is impossible to know.

I remind myself every day, everything happens the way it is suppose to. But what if things aren’t going the way you want them to? Nothing happens. You just have to deal with it. I’m dealing with it right now, and you’re helping me.

I have a friend that I have not seen face to face in over ten years. Where do they fit? Right now, they fit in exactly where they are supposed to, and I am so grateful for them, and they don’t even know.

As I watch the sky switch from sun to snow and back again, I remember that this is the way of things, and that if I do not learn to accept some of this, I’ll sit with my sorrow for the remainder of my life. I was content in that sorrow. I still am. Only when it became too real and intense did it start to irritate me. I was just so annoyed by it. I’ll find a better place for those feelings.

I have a clock on my desk. It is made out of an old air plane piston, and it is still in its box. I have to find a place for that.