Glad that when I found the strength to walk out you stayed the hell out of my way.

Watch "the mountain goats-No Children w/lyrics" on YouTube

What if the last time you did something was truly the LAST time?

I think back to the last time I hung up the phone on you.  Tears streamed from my eyes.  You must have had the same from what I recall of the quiver in your voice.  And I sat there stunned for quite some time.  It didn't seem real.  It still doesn't.

Years later I find myself sitting in a support group discussing the very things you always told me were there. I couldn't see them then.  I do now.

I wonder if I had listened to you all those years ago and sought help for my panics (and my tears and my frustrations and my anger and so many other things) what would be different now. 

Would I be happier? 
Would I be more successful?
Would I still have a best friend who understood me better than I do?

Of everything, that last one seems to be the hardest loss of all to take.  For a the better part of the time since we last spoke I've been searching for that sort of connection.  The ability to trust someone implicitly and to know that no matter how hard something is to hear, if it's being said it needed to be said.

But here I am years later, without that. 

I am timid.
I am hopeful.
I am climing up.

A stone's throw away from happiness.
Pity I never learned to skip those stones.

Be glad you aren't easily replaced. 

I am.

More or less aiming for less.

It's been a while since I could hold my head up high. I suppose I ought to give credit to Staind for that but truth be told I don't feel they will care all that much.

I'm not going to admit that every bit of the last five years was a waste but certainly at least the past two and a half to three years were wasted pursuing a great nothing. And what do I have to show for this pursuit? Bigger clothes. Bigger debt. And biggest of all-- regrets.

I nevertheless am committing myself to a few goals: happiness, simplicity, and satiation.

Step one has been to improve my own mildewed insides. I am glad to share that, while the process is far from complete, I have made progress.

Step two which I will be embarking upon in the next week is to improve my battered outside. Yes, this means trips to the gym. It also means makeup, nail polish, and haircuts (oh my).

Step three will come later but that is about improving my living situation. This is where the photo of the lovely little cabin comes into play. Obviously it would be unlikely that this particular place will be available when I am ready to look for a tiny house but I intend to find something similar.

And so it goes. -Kurt Vonnegut Jr

But here I am, two days before Christmas... Wondering if I will ever manage to go into a shopping center, especially this time of year, without a panic attack. Oh yeah. I'm presentless.

If you read this: Megsie apologizes for the way things went at the end and hopes, most sincerely, for your endless happiness in the years to come.