And wipe the mark
of sadness from my face
Show me that your
love will never change
If my yesterday is
a disgrace
Tell me that you
still recall my name
—Cactus in the
Valley, Lights
Dear beautiful readers, we know each other well enough
for me to be honest with you at this point, yes? Good.
These last few months, straight depression. And I can’t pinpoint why. We could spend hours on a roulette of
possibilities—is it your singleness? Your
family? Your roommate? Your job?
Your friends? Church?—and I
would shake my head to all. I have no
idea why my heart has sunk into a state of removal.
I don’t really want to see anyone. I don’t really want to talk. Big groups are not my forte right now,
instead choosing to fall into the shadows of a quiet evening at home with some
books and my HD DVD player.
Maybe it’s because I’ve been sick on and off for the last
few weeks? This week the worst.
Maybe it’s the weather.
Because, really, who likes waking up to sleet?
It could be nothing I’ve thought of, or a mixture of
everything. Whatever it is, I feel as if
the dense fog may be in its final state—the state where it slowly evaporates,
giving room to new energy and new motivation.
November, December, and January have had their fair share
of solitude and prayers begging God for answers and directions and
opportunities.
Maybe this is the turning point for which I’ve been
waiting.
