Afraid of wanting.
That’s where I am at today. To want something is to face disappointment head on. I think that is sometimes why I don’t admit to myself that I want things.
I want things to be more meaningful. I want to write my truth. I want to write fiction. I want the is in my head to manifest into actual things.
I want so badly to be free.
I am afraid that these things will never manifest. Yet, it all starts with today. What do I do today to set myself free? Do I sit down and write or say that children running around prevented me? Do I let there be excuses? Do I see the meaning in the little things?
Because all of it is there. All of it is possible.
If only I claim it.