dear ma

i know this is like nails on a chalkboard for all you nutty book worms out there, but i must admit... there have been a few times that i have opened up a book, turned to about 3/4 of the way through it, and read a couple pages. all in an effort to see if the author sucks at continuation or if anything there catches my interest enough to even begin the book at all.

there is so much of me that wants to do this with the story of joy.

for so long, i've referred to the ending of the relationship i was in as the break-up with a capital B. the Break-up. as if it were a proper noun. but like a sub-prober noun. one that is after joy, but before abare. maybe it was like my middle name for a while. and maybe i let it be for too long. but maybe i'm supposed to let it be for a little longer. kara always tells me to "let myself have this time..." but the thing is - i don't even know what the heck that means. but i don't think i'm supposed to.

ray lamontagne says, 'if you give your heart to one that don't know promise from pretend you don't need your ma to tell you how this story ends.'

i know this isn't what ray meant - but he's right. i don't need my ma to tell me how this story ends. even though sometimes i wish i could know my ending - i know that my middle is kind of exciting. i don't think i would have said that this time last year. i think exciting would have been the last word to come to my mind when talking about my story. but holy crud is God faithful in the midst of confusion and pursuit and pain and did i mention confusion?

so... to ma: if you do know my ending, don't tell it to me. the beginning's got me hooked.