I’m feeling somewhat melancholy tonight (husband says I should stop that immediately, because melancholy is a silly word). Not depressed, just sad. I miss a few people intensely this time of year in particular: some because they’re far away, some because they’re no longer occupying the space in my life they used to.
The line between “missing” and “wallowing” is one of those fine dotted ones…you know, like the kind on the highway signaling it’s ok to leave your normal space for a few seconds, if it’s safe, to go around an obstacle? Yeah. Gotta pay attention and keep my people-missing in the “reflect upon where you’ve been, with whom you’ve connected, and who you’ve let go” phase that stays healthy.
Then again, I’m not terribly adept at staying within lines. Ok, that’s not completely accurate: I CAN AND DO stay within driving lines…I just occasionally go too fast. Police, if you’re reading this, I do not drive erratically, or drunk, or anything else…and I’m working on my lead foot, I swear.
I once wrote a short story during my bus ride home from school that included haunted houses, bears ripping people’s arms off, and a plucky crew of friends who fought ALL THE EVIL. I was in 2nd grade…I believe that would’ve made me 7 at the time. I’m probably lucky my parents (or the teachers) didn’t send me to therapy. See? not good at staying within the boundaries of this very blog post. Ha! Take that, 2nd grade teacher!
And so tonight I’m somewhat melancholy and thinking a lot about what I should hold on to in hope and what I should let go of to move on as gracefully as possible. This IS me we’re talking about…graceful means getting out without black eyes or a broken toe, after all.