Pain, again. But I knew I’d end up here. I told her we would, and I was right because I know exactly who I am and what I do, and I’ve done it again. I am extremely loyal, in all aspects of my life, to the things that matter most to me. I have now discovered it is to a fault; there are things that I am not willing to let go or put aside. I have tried to, sometimes willingly and sometimes not, but I always return to them because they are what gives me life. The creative aspects, the late hours of work. That is who I truly am. How can I let that go? In thirty years, should I still exist here, how would I feel if I had put these things aside? I know now, today, that I would regret it. I regret any time away from it, because it is what matters the most to me, deep inside where I stow away my thoughts.

What has happened now, is that some of those inner thoughts came to the surface, and I’m sure they hurt and stung and carried all the venom one could imagine. I can say with one-hundred-percent certainty, that I meant no harm and it hurt me to say such words as much as they hurt to hear. Maybe. I have been so, so lost. I didn’t know who I was anymore, except I had been here before. Have you ever been under the ocean? That pressure, it held me in such a state, it even hurt to breathe because I felt as though I was breathing as someone else. That it wasn’t me, it couldn’t be me, because I knew better. I said I wouldn’t do this again, because I almost didn’t survive last time, because I knew it would happen, I knew it was coming, I saw it when it arrived and I got so lost that you could have told me where I was and I wouldn’t have heard you. And then, I suddenly woke up.

But so what? It hurts still. I can’t seem to get away from it. I’ve remembered who I am, but does it even matter anymore?

Of course it does. My book is unfinished, poems unwritten, and there are other things I have to do. Can I do it all? I can try. I have to. That is who I am. But here we are. I am staying in front of the pain as best I can by staying busy, but as soon as there is a lull it all comes rushing back. This isn’t what I want.

Is it?

Thanks for reading, listening, and watching. I’ll try to do better, but all I can promise is that I will put one foot in front of the other and push forward, because I have no choice; none of us do. I hope you have enjoyed the pictures as well. They are all from Alaska, except for the one featured in Range of Brightness. I’ll tell you about that too. But not today.