November 4: Chilly and Dark.

a week,
a month,
a year.
changes,
advances,
regression.
all within reason,
all within reach,
each one a little harder,
a little more painful.

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a jump,
a leap,
a step...
forward?
backward?
sideways?
blindly,
I act,
the best,
left to faith.

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a year is creeping up on me. a year of the single lifestyle. a year spent with many, not one. a year of change, of transition, of uncertainty. the security of one, gone. my life, changed, in so many ways... the path I'm on so unfamiliar, so strange. the nights are dark, the silence deafening, the emptiness eviscerating. familiar objects are foreign, each step blind, and my destination unknown.