fear

I'm afraid to start new. I know that sounds completely ridiculous but it couldn't be closer to the truth that I've found myself running from in the last 24 hours. You might be thinking: Matt, what could you possibly be talking about? Relationships? Faith? No. I'm not talking about any of that.

Sometimes I fear change. I've found it a challenge that I've had to deal with in the last week, but that's not the change that's really causing me problems right now. The change I'm talking about it my new journal.

I'm afraid to bloody its pages with my life, with my endless droning and amusing attempts at writing, with my stories and my history, with everything I've tried to be and failed to become. So I've gone an entire day - up to this point - without writing in my journal. The pages have been left unscathed, though the pockets are packed with photos, letters, and memories of friends who've gone away for some time. Maybe I need to find a way to turn those photos, letters, and memories into words all my own, words that I can write into a legacy on paper.

I'm not sure. I just know that at this point, I fear a little dirt.