I had to turn my creative energy elsewhere this morning. I had a different story I wanted to tell. I ended up writing a thousand words on the subject of a fox and raccoon falling in love, then went to the top of the page, started it a different way, and wrote a thousand more. I had to stop myself there, afraid that my energy might be draining and I might just start writing crap after that. I'm a little afraid that if I stop now, I won't want to go back and it will just dwindle incomplete forever. I have a tendency to do that. All too often.

I was surprised that I was able (the second time through) to conjure up those old feelings of thoughtless love. After all I've been through, it's not easy to even understand love anymore, let alone write about that fluttering heart sensation you get when you're young and foolish. I was able to though, and even felt that old fear and desperation felt when it all suddenly drops away for no reason.

It was brief, but it was the best I could do.

I don't care what ended up happening, I wish I could be that stupid again. I wish I could go into situations as thoughtless as I did when I was 19, 20... I'm nearing 30 now and I find I'm actually considering going on the rest of the journey on my own. I always trusted too much. I was really gullible. Now every promise is received as a lie. I was always faithful.

Hmm...