Gusts of Cold Amongst the Warmth

I probably couldn't count how many times I've said I'm going to do something only to end up running out of steam, or completely abandoning a project. My point is that I don't want this to be one of those. I want to continue to write. I have other writing projects in mind, and running out of steam on this one will derail all the rest. I know, it's easy to think, "so do it.", or "write more often." And I do think like that.

What I can't figure out is if I'm doing it right. I get on here and plug out some of my thoughts that I'm honestly not sure if anyone reads. But is that why I should do it anyway? Is the uncertainty the reason I don't do it as often as I figured I would? Is it something else? Maybe I haven't found my voice yet. Maybe I don't know what I want to say. It's all that and more I think.

I did have a reason to write today though. I have to say some things to someone who is very close to me. He's going through a really rough thing right now, and to him it seems so sudden and out of nowhere.

I understand that things were going so great in your life. I've been right here with you the whole time. I've also been on the outside of all of this, and bracing for impact. I love you, brother. You never have to hide how you're feeling from me. You don't have to put on your paper mask and pretend. Mostly because I can see right through it. I know this sucks. I actually know that it isn't just the one thing, but that a lot of things are eating away at you now. It was easy to shoulder the small bits while you were floating on clouds, but this is a catalyst for negativity now. Pick yourself up. Look around you. Notice the pieces still left in place. Brush them off good and hold your head high kid, you're doing fine.

We talked about it recently, about how great things are going for you. Remember that I told you to remember what it felt like to be down and out. Hopefully you took a moment to think about that. To think about a time when we were so broke a cheese sandwich was a meal. To think about the handful of times neither one of us had reliable transportation and had to rely on the hospitality of others. And to think about what it felt like to suddenly be without a place to sleep at night. Things haven't always been up in the clouds for you man, but looking back you can see they've been much worse.

I'm not on here to air your laundry. I haven't mentioned anything too personal. Besides that, anyone who knows you already knows everything about you. You're an open book, my friend. And this small thing that has you twisted up is just an ellipsis at the end of a chapter that is to be continued.









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