Faltering

I’ve never been a quitter. I was born stubborn.  If you tell me I can’t do something, you’re asking for a front row seat in the “watch how it’s done show.”  That’s who I am.  How I’ve always been. I’m a fighter.  You can knock me down but you can’t beat me.  I might stumble (I stumble on a good day), I might falter, but I refuse to give up. There is something proud and resilient about me that people pick up almost instantly (most people). Something that says I refuse to be beaten.  If you look closely into my eyes, you will see this fragility that has learned self-reliance the hard way.

I’ve learned that there are no shortcuts or easy rides to anything worth while, anything that’s truly magical.  I believe in fate and destiny and the magic of the unknown because I’m a romantic. But I also believe that that’s half the journey, and from a certain point  forward - we own the path. For the way we choose to live.  I’m loyal – fiercely so. My will is incredibly strong. For most of my life I’ve been in battle with it myself. It used to be something I prided myself with but lately I’m not so sure.  I feel as if it has transcended me. Almost as if it’s risen above and beyond me. I can’t silence it nor can I seem to control its strength and its insistence to endure. 

 But it’s proving hard – accepting that goes against my nature.  It goes against who I am.  The concept of giving up… it seems weak and small...but, this time, I realize...it's not enough just to have a strong will..the stars must line up to make a connect-the-dot puzzle work out right, things I have no control over...