When I spend resources trying to avoid the painful moment I am imagining, I will never know how to respond to the actual experience. Everything becomes a story about a fix to a broken fix to another useless hole. These responses to my discomfort only create a new narrative of pain for myself and others. I avoid living in an impermanent moment out of fear.
There are places I remain frozen in the past. An outcome of my marriage and the last several relationships is I feel as if I am sexually wrecked. I feel frozen between desire and doubt, analysis and paralysis, ambition and silence
And here I realized is where the story ended. In a little no frill community thrift store outside of Golden, Colorado. A few trinkets added to a hoarder's paradise.