Sand Becoming Solid

"Well if you can't get what you love, you learn to love the things you've got, if you can't be what you want, you lern to be the things you're not, if you can't get what you need, you learn to need the things that stop you dreaming..." I spent years so consumed by what I can only describe as wet, shifting sand. Long enough that I couldn't tell you when it started, only that I lived in it so long I didn't see it ending. Ever. But slowly (very slowly) and more than a little painfully it started to. Periodically the rain stopped. Then it stopped more often and the sky seemed somewhat less cloudy. Eventually it cleared up (mostly) and as I learned to put my opinion of myself over other people's perception the storm that's surrounded me for what seems like forever dissapated altogether and the regrets that once controlled me became a (somewhat) distant rumble. It's taken almost my entire adult life (to date) but that wet sand is finally starting to solidify beneath me. I'm starting to believe that a life (as opposed to an existance) is actually possible. Recently I got a job that improved my overall situation. Writing Rainbow (the Creative Writing program I started almost five years ago) continues to astound me with it's growth (here's hoping putting that in writing doesn't jinx it!), and my near constant anxiey is actually manageable. As the saying goes, I may not have gone where I intended to go but I think I have ended up where I needed to be. With any luck, that sand will become completely solid ground one day.