Moving On

Got a letter today. Letters make me happy so much so. The sun is also shining and today is a lot better than yesterday. But then again, yesterday wasn't too absolutely crappy. I saw prayers answered. And I realized, yet again, how much we actually need to formulate those thoughts and half-baked wishes, into actual prayers. How can you get answers, have unanswered prayers, when you don't even really pray?
Talking with a friend today. I love meeting new people, because they bring something more to the equation than just me. And he said something about not being ready. Which, ok, I know and have known that for a while. That I'm not really ready for 'the next step' whatever that may be. And that's where my fear has been coming from. It's not really a valid fear, but it has been there nonetheless. It's sort of frozen up my future. I don't want to make a decision in fear. Fearing one thing or another and letting it dictate my actions. Having it be THE reason, rather than something of the past, but having left because of knowledge. But it was sort of another ha! moment, not quite ahha! but almost. First, realizing that fear, and then knowing that truthfully, I know what I want. I do. And I just need to sit down and say, this is it. I'm going for it. Going to be ready for it.
Because I can have all the answers dropped right into my lap. And unless I actually know what I'm building in the end, what I want to create, all I'm going to have is a lot of disjointed pieces.
Which, is where I'm at right now. I am resolving not to be there any longer. Floating has it's place, and will always. But I can't stay that way.
I wrote out all my memories yesterday. Having to do with a certain person that I was unsure what to do with, what part they really truly were going, and are going to play, in my life. The memories of what was past, kept coming up in my mind. Kind of holding me captive, and I let them be there, they were pleasant, wonderful memories. Even the anxious ones held value. Because I learned something. Every time. About who I am, who I was. And even who I can be.
Anyway, I wrote them all down. Took 5 1/2 full pages. And didn't go into detail. Just enough to remind me of the memory, knowing full well what was meant by only a few words. Wrote them all down. And shut the book. They belong there now. In the past. In a closed book of memories, not ones that haunt me all too often. Time will only tell if that book will be reopened to add more to it, or left on the shelf, to pull down every so often, but just to remember. Not because they are needed to find myself. I am who I am, no matter what happened yesterday, the day before, or years before. That's not me.
It helped. A lot actually. They have a place, those renegade memories. And I can keep them there, and not surrounding me all the time. Writing it down. Having definition. Even in just that. Knowing something. Knowing where the past lies, where I have chosen to place it, enables me to move on.