There was an orange moon, behind thick fog

And I wanted to find it--
I imagined that if I held out my hand,
the trees would bow down
to clear my view,
but as I rounded the bend (one of the many)
I saw that the still-bare branches didn't distort my vision as much as
the fog
did.
And that was probably more symbolic than I can conceive of at this moment.
But it was beautiful,
that smudge of orange so tauntingly out of reach.
I wanted to see that moon, but it was not mine.

I was afraid I might drown
but instead
it seems I am learning the butterfly stroke
which sounds prettier than it looks,
and is stronger than its name implies.
I am stronger than its name implies, too.
...although, somehow...it seems that I protest too much,
like Shakespeare said that one time.
To declare my strength is shouting it to my own deaf ears,
shouting it to a world with only four senses.
I am lost, and I am found.
But I can't stop spinning as I sit so still
hoping no one notices the way my smile has slipped
from the grip
in which I held it so tightly
for so long.
Remind me...
whisper into that part of my mind that holds memories
and tell me that I don't have to prove anything
and I don't have to be
any
one
other than myself.
I am still shedding the baggage I acquired during that ten year stint up the river.
In shackles,
behind bars,
or in pubs, or what have you....
You get the idea, you hear me, you smell what the Rock is Cookin'
...and yes, it might be lobster. :)
Tonight I am home in more ways than I can count.
I am content in more ways than I've ever imagined.
But.
I am, most definitely, at a place called Vertigo--
I know which way is up, but I can't seem to find it;
I know where I am, but I can't find the light switch.
My heart is still so full it aches, but there are moments when I can't breathe--
moments when it all turns upside down and I wonder where I fit in,
wonder how this will play out over a lifetime.
Wonder if I'm enough,
And in all of this wondering...
I forget to remember the most important part:
We are a perfect match,
like two halves of the same whole,
like one plus one equals one
like my heart in his chest
and his thoughts in my head
and I chide myself for forgetting to remember those (most important) things.
Those things which are all that I have sought,
for all the years I've been aware of my heart's design.
Silly girl...
did you also forget, so soon?
Did you forget how much your soul craves a pure outlet?
Ah.
Yes.
Time for a new blog, eh?
Time for a new blog.
Will you ever stick with any blog with the determination and love that you rode like a surfer's paradise on the last blog?
Prolly not.
But that's ok.