I can’t remember what you look like. Yes, dear novel-in-progress, I’m talking about you.

I have a storyboard…. Somewhere. But this move and this massive shift in priorities have left my storyboard and – worse – my story, buried. It weighs on me in moments, and I’m scared that I have lost you. But that is a silly and unfounded fear. I know where the storyboard is, I can almost see it from here, in fact, and I know how the story goes. It isn’t lost, it’s just on pause as I reshuffle all of this wonder that is life.

I’m happy, if that counts for anything.

Actually, I think it counts for everything. I’m happy. I. Am. Happy. And that isn’t something I’ve always been able to say. At least not honestly.

So for now, I have to leave the storyboard buried and the words in my heart, but I know it is as it should be. I have to sort through a few things and get the train rolling before I can do this the right way.

And I’m learning what the right way is. I can now say with certainty that “the right way” isn’t what I thought it was. That was sure a dreamy vision, and one I fully intended to live out, but I learned last year that sometimes when you take a dream, especially one that you have made so perfectly golden and shiny in your mind, and you try to make it real….. well, it ain’t all that golden. Reality is complicated, and our brains make it even more so. At least mine does, anyway.

So right now, I’m super happy, but it’s a realistic happy. That means that sometimes I’m really quite tired. And sometimes I’m a cranky b-word, and later I feel terrible for that. And lots of times I’m confused about where to begin or what to do or how to accomplish the multitude of things that I am so eager to sink my teeth into. Happy is all of that; it is not simply golden and shiny all the time. Happy is waking up and feeling something and processing emotions and moving through the ups and downs and LIVING. Happy is living. My happy, anyway.

But I miss you, Baby Love. Let’s get together again soon, shall we?

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