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I haven’t written. I can’t write. Life has been coming thick and fast and these constant grey skies numb my senses. I am fitting in so much these days, cramming more and more into my existence. Growing and rising and at the same time trying to shrink and simplify. Life is not that complex and it is complicated at the same time. (that sounds stupid and pretentious). I haven’t posted in a while because I am not just adopted and I am not just my thoughts and words on my blog, there is just so much more in life that I have to focus on. Perspective is the key I think to understanding what in life is meant to be simple and what is supposed to be complex.

Today the sun is out, brimming with confidence as it often does during these winter months. Here in upstate you don’t seem to come out much this time of year, but when you do the vitriol and vigor you bring is intoxicating. It is on these days that I find my inspiration creeps back just a bit. Today I was able to do two of the things that I enjoy, wear my Ray-bans and sing my heart out. I like my sunglasses because they hide my eyes and maybe if you were to spy me just for a moment you wouldn’t know what I was and you could pass me by. I like to sing, because I feel as if I am someone else, someone who has the power to move.

I get up and I’m into work just as the sun is rising (although I wouldn’t know because the clouds blot out the sun) and I leave long after it has set. When it’s dark on my rides to and from work I just can’t seem to sing, I love to sing despite how terrible I am at it. I always sing in the car.

It has been one month since I met her. Everything has changed. She is different than the last, but I love her just the same, no, I love her more. So here I stand quivering in the light of such immense possibility and hope. I shake and tumble under the weight of what I might be or who I shall embody. Can I believe in something for once?

When she gets going, plying her craft, I stand in complete and utter awe at what a strikingly strong figure she is. Yet there is a soft gentleness about her that is so inviting; and I find myself intimidated only by my own fears. Repeating like a record whose needle has gone off track “am I good enough, am I good enough, am I good enough.” But there has been no singing with you. On other occasions in my life whilst flirting with other “love” I have found myself full of song. Searching for the cheesiest, most cliche tune to sing aloud the finding of my new love, but not for you. There is a calm and a certain steadiness that resides in me. I love this. I don’t feel like I need to convince myself or justify this feeling. I find that I am not the shivering child lost amongst shadows of the past, but an assured man who can walk peacefully through the fires of life.

So I need not sing, not aloud at least. For when I close my eyes a gentle melody is heard whispering softly inside my heart.

As I write this, I tremble. Waffling between the sublime and the fear. I read my words with confusion and angst. I am so elated at the prospect of truly being loved, yet I fear I will sabotage all that is good with my insecurities and lack of resolve. Will you stay?

Whilst I have every good intention possible and the truest of belief in what we have is real, I fear for what looms inside of me. I don’t know if I will ever be sure of my level of trust. She gave me up, and so could you. I was not good enough for here even as the cutest small babe, and now as a grizzled young man how am I to know that I am good enough for you. Oh where has my confidence gone?

You inspire me. I just hope I can do the same for you.