I was drowning in my own sorrow. I was dying inside and out and no matter what I did, I couldn't pull myself up. I couldn't live for anyone anymore, not even my children. I cried and screamed and prayed that God would send me someone... any one to pull me up or to just let me die. Two days later he walked in the door.I've told this story before. Read it again elsewhere, but there he was and he pulled me up and I took a chance and stepped out onto a precipice to feel the life flow back into me and it did. It flowed and swallowed me and gave me the strength I needed to go on. I still struggled with my sorrow and pain, but I was alive.
I had tasted life again and it gave me a thirst to find more. The man has gone. He is a friend and I see him from time to time, but the feelings I thought I had are not there.Now I stand on another precipice and I have found myself wondering if I'm not fooling myself again. I realize that I am not and am ready to step into the yawning chasm below me and hope and pray that my eyes and heart are not deceitful this time. I think my sorrow has passed enough for me to see clearly and recognize what I'm feeling. So now I will take this walk and see if the bridge is waiting for my tread.