There are permanent butterflies in my stomach. The other night, I tried to write about it but I felt so sick I had to stop. Tonight, I tried once more. Hugging a cushion and standing over the bed, I told them how I felt. It was funny how inside it was as if I was falling apart, but I could feel my feet planted firmly on the ground. I was sturdy. I can help it, it seems. My worries are apparently senseless, and I should have known I would feel this way, and I should be stronger than this.

Whatever it is that's eating me. My desire to conquer you is so strong. I'm still struggling. What I need for the journey is to bear this patiently. I need strength for two people. Your faith is so weak. I need faith, which is right now, smaller than the spore of a mustard seed, which I know is not enough, which I struggle to get by on. I need peace, for every waking moment that is filled with fear of the unknown.

Or maybe I just need lots of tranks. We'll find out how desperate I am yet.

posted by beautiful at 9:08 am