From little things big things grow.

transposed (and then added to) from my little black journal august 7, 2008

Seven days really isn't a lot of time to say good-bye.

But that's what I've got. 

I'm sitting at my spot again. On the rim of the basin. I took one of my shoes off I think my foot found the only smooth rock up here because the ones that are digging into me through my skirt are less then smooth to say the least. 

The sun is setting. The air isn't hot, but dances gentle and light. The sky is like a painting. 

I come up here because no one else thinks to. 

I come up here to people-watch. I wander if the couple I see walking their four dogs around the baseball diamond is happy. 

I come up here because I can be alone. 

I've been thinking lately how sometimes I really enjoy being left alone and in my own head. 

I have space here to realize that I limit myself according to what my mother thinks I can be. What I'm supposed to be. The only things I'm allowed to be. I limit myself based on what everyone else thinks of me based on the limitations I've lived by.

I hope I allow myself to let go when they leave me. 

I feel like I will.

Like I'm so close to being something different.

I almost look forward to being alone there. 

I hope I'm not too caught up in the things that are new to appreciate it.

I want to sit under a big tree in the evening and write letters to the people I miss.

And watch the sun set somewhere new.

And maybe fall in love with someone it's actually okay to be in love with.

As I sit here in my favorite present spot and the last dark rose of the sunset fades to grey, the moon seems to grow in the dimming light. 

Somethings are always there despite the distance.