closer

emerson hart is trying to tell me something. "there's more to love than we'll ever know. sometimes you're closer when you're letting go," he croons to my hope-hungry ears. clearly, though, he does not know me well. if he did, he would know that i hold on to things as if i were grasping them with the strength of an iron claw. and while i get better with age at forgiveness, i never forget. you see, to me the act of letting go feels less like a release and more like i failed at keeping something precious in tact. there is no peace in letting something fall by the wayside where it may, regardless of the need to move in a forward direction. i get it, i do. letting go is less for the thing you are releasing than it is merely a way to cut the tie to what specifically keeps you in one place. the link to the past. the hope that it, whatever "it" may be, could ever be any different. (thank you, oprah.)

i know emerson is right, and that everyone else who continue to reinforce his idea to me are as well. but i dont want to let this go, god dammit. i am terrified that if i allow this to slip from my white-knuckled fingers the picture of what the rest of my life will look like may get blurry, shifting to appear more out of focus than it is in. like the withering and wearing of time, i can't let the picture fade. i'm sorry, but there is nothing "closer" in that.