It’s been a long time since I’ve been without a goal. For the last three years or so, my goal was singular and no matter how I drifted from that goal, somewhere deep in my being I kept moving forward with it. I kept pursuing it whether out of stubbornness and refusal to admit defeat, or hope that I’d actually make something of the new life I was striving towards. Those that are near me know what it is, know the ins and outs of it, and know that while I was far from the only one at fault (the other party admits this), I have my own weight to bear in it and bear it I shall.
I’ve kept this whole thing private; I’ve never said anything public to anyone and I am proud of that. Friends that I thought weren’t anymore have come to me and asked me why I didn’t come out swinging like the other person involved, and others have asked what was going on because all they heard was one side of the story. I stayed respectful, and in my opinion, that respect wasn’t returned, and that is the only slight I will give that person. I fully expect her to read this and act as she has done in the past, and in putting this up I expose myself to that. You know what? You kick a man when he’s down and searching for a wall to brace against, what does that make you? I’ve gained friends over this, and the one friendship I thought was at risk I managed to save. No matter how righteously a fire burns, it still warns people to keep their distance. I feel I’m not the one that needs to learn that lesson.