I went to bed somewhat hopeful, having had a conversation with a friend and co-worker who was distraught and agitated.
It was late, but I invited him over for a beer. We talked a bit. I listened.
And told him I was committed. I was here for him – for everyone – until September.
The decision has been made – I felt good about it – and I repeated it: I’d give Wyoming a year. That’s fair. Anyone can do anything for a year.
A night of tossing and turning, bad dreams, fears revisited and I woke up lost. And alone.
There are no crossroads, it seems. As I write this (and that is a big disclaimer), I feel no forward momentum.
It’s not supposed to be like this. This isn’t the life I envisioned for myself.
And before I spiral into more darkness and self-doubt and loathing, I needed to say this. All of this. Get it out.
And looking around, yeah, I have it pretty good. Better than most.
The view from the darkness is painful.