baby take a chance with me

I keep going in and out of these strange growing-pains type feelings about getting married. But I keep going in and out of them, I said. So they come and go.

There is this lifetime in my past that I've lived. I have loved in that past. I've been loved. There were experiences that could only make sense had it been my last night on earth. There have been loneliness and abandonment. There have been comradarie and security.

Funerals. Milestones. Pillars. Walls. Pilgrimages. Epiphanes. Revelations. Births. Divorce. Purity.

This is a lifetime Mike has never seen, but I have to trust that he still understands (me). I have to trust that for the rest of my lifetime, our history will become mutual. I have to trust that even though so many events lie in my heart - so precious - now is a good time to stop walking alone.

At night, right before I fall asleep, I get panicky. Not about marrying Mike. It's never about him. It's about marrying at all. So I get panicky about money. About where I will live. About where I will work. About how unqualified I may or may not be for any job. I panick about dissapointing Mike with the sloppy way I live my life. Because I'm used to my slop, and it gets me by, but no one else has ever seen inside of it.

I don't have wicked secrets. I just have weird ones.