The Darkest Hours
Now and then, I find the darkest hours before dawn to be the most difficult. It took me a few moments to realize what woke me up, a few moments before I heard the wind howling, gusting at more than 50 mile per hour, branches scraping the side of the building.
It’s ironic that I love watching the power of the storm, yet at the same time find myself still craving the sound of a soothing voice, telling me it’s just a storm, assuring me it will soon pass.
Feeling silly about my apprehension, I walked out on the balcony, wanting to be brave, somehow needing to know if the storm was as bad as it sounded. Standing there in the darkness, listening and watching, I sensed an emptiness inside of me, the realization that there was absolutely no one I could reach out to, not one single person that I could call and say, I am afraid . . .
Maybe in these moments we find the strength to depend on ourselves.
mk
depending on ones self is important, in this day and age at least.
call me whenever you want babe.
i’m always around
not guaranteeing i’ll pick up but call if that helps *grins*
chin up.
Pam
I am only a couple of hours away. I know it isn’t the same as having someone right there with you but you can call anytime, even if just to jabber.
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