When I broke it off with my husband, I was very happy in the ensuing weeks to be FREE of him. No more arguing, no more stress, no more heartbreak, no more endless wondering if things would turn out alright. I was alone now and in charge of Me - I could trust Me, I could rely on Me - and I was floating on air. It's now been a little over a month and it seems the air in my freedom balloon is slowly decreasing. I'm almost face to face with ME. What will she say? What will she think? Will she be pissed at the road I've taken her down? Will she be disappointed? - or will she give me a hug and say, "It's gonna be alright."
Lots of times, most times, we'll do anything we can to get away from "Me." We'll put up a wall made out of drugs, drink, food, or even work. Suddenly, we find ourselves booted from our homes, in rehab, at Fat Camp, or stuck amidst a sea of white button-down shirts laughing at the same old dirty jokes.
Who is this "Me" we run from? And why? What is it that we don't want to know? Well, I intend to find out. Stay tuned!
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