I’ve had a really tough weekend, and I think I’ve figured out why.
Before this, I could imagine any outcome and make myself believe they were possible. But when I decided to venture forward, that changed. The word “decide” comes from a Latin word which can be broken down as “cut off at a stroke”. That’s what I did — cut off a set of possibilities. The response I get (or don’t get) will cut off another set of possibilities. If I am at all capable of honesty, I will not be able to pretend any more after this that a certain group of options are open to me. I am finding that scary, to be honest. Lately, I’ve been living on dreams and been pretty happy. Now, it’s back to reality, and it’s breaking my heart.
This probably won’t make sense to anyone but me. Or if it’s read by the small group of people who might understand what I’ve done and why it matters. And why it hurts.