I had an idea, to take space and recuperate. Actually, I had enough and left everything behind.
So naive, and fighting for every lousy breadcrumb dropped.
I'm not sure I would be here if God didn't have another plan for me, or a higher power.
There might be another plan.
And it's not my plan, it's a bigger plan.
I had come here with, yeah, another plan, it didn't happen, it may not even have existed. Of course it didn't, I had no idea, really.
A few miles from a beach, my dog, small town, filled with man toys, trucks, ATVs, motorcycles, dirt bikes, and big machinery.
Four restaurants, a pharmacy, and ... not much else, except the beach.
No family nearby, and ... I'm learning how to do life all over again.
I'm remembering everything ... my one true love I ran from in fear, and regret many years ago, and everything else in between.
I need to have a funeral, there are a lot of memories, before summer's end, before I'm off to somewhere else (originally I wrote, "off to someone else" hmmm).
I'm an observer, inside and outside myself.
I'm finding out there is no "my" plan, no "my" idea.
I'm rebuilding my foundation; I was an inexperienced contractor. A "committee project," broken pieces of me.
Building a foundation from other people's shitty wishy-washy, self-indulgent ideas, fears, needs, and wants.
Now, I'm called to build a foundation. Strong, durable, and able to weather more storms - by myself, it will be ok. I will be ok.