"Took my time; took my chances..."

[exilian]

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I can't possibly confess how many mistakes I've made over the past decade.

Not because I'm unwilling.

Rather, because they're beyond counting.

How many droplets in a hurricane?

How many grains in the Gobi?

So innumerable, so heavy, that I ran.

Just packed my old INS dufflebag with a few clothes.

Locked the door behind me.

And left a house full of sadness and a dozen empty whiskey bottles.

Where will I end up?

I can't say.

I've no idea.

For now, I'm in Oklahoma.

On the second floor under a sky so big and blue it'd make an atheist believe in Heaven.

I've lost 11lbs; losing more everyday.

I don't drink or smoke a 10th of what I previously did.

I hate many of the choices I've made.

I carried a lot of guilt here with me.

But each day gets me closer to forgiving myself.

And I pray those I've hurt or neglected find their way to forgive me, too.

If they don't:

I'll accept it.

It's their right; I'm not blameless.

I may never fully get back on my feet.

I may rise higher than I ever did.

But, either way:

I'll have gone down fighting.

Ω