Pre-Thanksgiving Ramblings...

Just let me warn you. I am in no mood for the holidays. My life is so screwed up right now. If this post turns out even the least bit positive, consider yourself lucky. You can count on a post that doesn't sound like the Southern Goddess...because the Southern Goddess just isn't herself these days. But a writer has to write...and even when she doesn't feel like it or when she doesn't feel like she has anything to important to say. Rambling #1: You know the saying, "If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours. If they don't, they were never yours to begin with." I don't know who said this...but if you're going to say something so profound and true, you really need to include instructions on how to let someone you love go. That's the hard part...the easy part, the words. They sound good...but putting them into action...really hard. Probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Rambling #2: I am so afraid and confused. Probably more than I have ever been in my life. I feel so alone even with my family around me. Probably more alone than I have ever been before in my life. Rambling #3: How can something so beautiful, so powerful, so amazingly wonderful be so painful to so many people that matter? Rambling #4: I let you come so close and you took me so far. I can only imagine how close we could become and how far we could go together. Rambling #5: How can I love you so much and be so angry at the same time? Anger is misplaced fear, as is insecurity. I guess, I'm feeling both a whole lot of both right now. I could get over the anger, but I'm not so sure about the insecurity. It would take a whole lot more to get over that. I wish just you'd let me put that all that energy into love and screw the anger and insecurity. Rambling #6: I am thankful for the opportunity to love you. I am not sorry for that. I'm sorry that you don't love me like I love you. Nope...this doesn't sound like the same Southern Goddess....that's because aliens have abducted her and replaced her with this melancholy shell of a being with fingers that move over the keyboard. You'll know when she returns. In the spirit of love, Marybeth