the hill

 Just some musings about my current emotional state.

I'm currently standing on a hill. 

On this hill, I have a 360-degree view of the world around me. 

I can see the future. There's a little bit of fog shrouding the treetops and buildings below because I don't always know what's to come. There is always a little uncertainty in life, right? What I can see are the few things I do know will happen, like starting a new job and Christmas and a nearing-end to this year of hell. 

It's the fog that scares me a little. But we'll deal with that when we get there.

And then, from the top of this hill, I can also see the past. And the past carries a sense of comfort and familiarity, but it also carries pain and heartache. A part of me wants to go back down this hill and exist in this space, but this space doesn't exist anymore. Others have already descended their hill and left me atop of mine. They call it the past for a reason. 

This path is one-way. As soon as I make my way to the bottom of the hill — into the future — I won't be able to see what's behind me anymore. I will always know it's there — it's not like it will disappear from memory — but I won't be able to see it. All those things that try to lure me to travel backwards will vanish from sight. And I'll only be able to look forward. 

That loss scares me a little, too. Travelling down the hill seems too permanent. I'm not ready to let it all go, not yet. 

So for now, all I can manage is inch my way forward. And soon gravity will pull me down and I'll be running down the hill and into the arms of the people waving at me from the other side. 

I'll be running down the hill and embracing the fog as if it were an old friend.

keeps me light - tall heights