Picking up the pieces.

Today is Ocotber first. I always love the first of the month. It would be even better if it were a Sunday. The OCD in me is all about fresh beginings that start on Sundays or the first of the month.

I feel like my life is one huge puzzle that recently was dropped. And now all the pieces are just scattered on the floor, and I have to put them all together again. You see, the pieces are all there, but I just have to find where they fit again. Perhaps some of the pieces have even become obsolete, and I have to figure out what to do with those too.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. That part of me just wishes I could have stayed under those covers in my tiny twin bed in my old room in my old house in that quiet, sweet little town. But with the the small sliver of strength left in me, I sat up, put one foot on the floor, and then the other. And I left my refuge of blankets and memories.One foot at a time. One day. One hour. One minute. One second then the next.

This is all that I have to go on, and for now this is enough.