F*ck If

“It’s fun to think of the what-if. Scary, but fun. It’s like, I thought this door was closed before, but here it is open just the tiniest crack. What if?” ― Jenny HanTo All the Boys I've Loved Before

This moment of clarification came to me in 2010 while I was writing elsewhere. It's a reminder that seems oddly relevant today – though not for the same reason. Still, the sentiment remains. 

          Fuck If

          I fell in love once. Twenty years ago.

          Right. Yes, I was sixteen.

          Everyone thinks they found love in high school.
          Sure. I thought I was in love…

          … at fifteen. Nope.
          … and seventeen. No.
          … again at twenty. Tragedy.

          No, this was different. My love was intense, forgiving,      
         whole, unconditional and volatile.

          Time. Two busy decades.

          Dating. Delusions. Divorces. Distance. Disport. Deliveries.
          Delights. Death. Drama. Demons. Dogma. Drudgery. Diets. 
          Doctrine. Deception. Dreams. And always…


          Damn “If.”

          What if…
          If only…
          If he…
          If I…
          If we…

         Fuck “If.”

         I did... instead of him. And, I am free. Finally.

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

"We all get lost once in a while, sometimes by choice, sometimes due to forces beyond our control. When we learn what it is our soul needs to learn, the path presents itself. Sometimes we see the way out but wander further and deeper despite ourselves; the fear, the anger or the sadness preventing us returning. Sometimes we prefer to be lost and wandering, sometimes it's easier. Sometimes we find our own way out. But regardless, always, we are found."
~ Cecilia Ahern, Thanks for the Memories

I have been wandering and though Tolkien tells us that "not all those who wander are lost," my wandering has been a bit aimless. I have been lost. It has been six years since I last posted here. I did leave a departure message and I have not been completely idle. 

I began telling stories of my childhood in Kenya and then I abandoned that project. I also returned to university (finally) and earned my Bachelor of Arts in English with honors. With degree in hand, I took a better job and I have been, in a word, busy. And while my professional life has a path and purpose, my personal life has been neglected. I write for my job and I wrote an absurd amount of research for university, but I haven't written anything for personal reasons in months — no, years. I even stopped keeping a journal. 

This is where I got lost... "♬ knee deep in the hooplah. ♪" I denied a special part of myself for far too long. I may never publish anything of note (beyond this blog), but I am still a writer and I must write... even if my ramblings are of no use to anyone but me. 

So, here I am. I have found my way out of the labyrinth of the lost. 

If you are out there. If you are listening. 
Welcome back. 


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