...so as the day turns into night, I sit down to write. The pressure behind my eyes begins to subside as the deep breaths that hint to my stress become less frequent. The darkness holds back time as I finally can think and write and sip and think and breathe. Subjects with the weight of an ocean pour over us without mercy. Faithfulness meets fear for coffee as they ponder common ground. What to do next? How many moments that should have been treasured, set aside, savored were forced to share space with preoccupations of the day? When did I give permission for this? When did the line between purpose and survival dissapear? I had it all figured out last month, I swear! The answers were put in place and the way was clear. Where did it go? I didn't blink or make a turn yet I don't know if I'm on the same road. Will I compromise today? Will I do what I shouldn't to appease everyone else and make our lives much more bearable? What will I lose if I do? I won't, anyway; and I'll suffer for it. I'll lose the respect of many and the trust of those I love. Still, I won't anyway. I don't think I've ever before understood how alone I truly am, in human company anyway. My cats like me and God hasn't budged from my side. Still, my coffee has grown chilly and it's not safe to walk outside alone. I need to walk alone. He's snoring. I'm typing. The wash is drying. The boy is dreaming. I'm typing; confirming my choices so I know on what to stand firm. Defining my place so I know in whom I can find support. Dreading the light, knowing what it brings. I'll embrace tonight for a little while longer.