Holy mess.

I can't even begin to sort through the waves of emotion crashing over me. I am such a mess. I long to grab hold of the tide that will pull me out, away from the rocks. I might just fall head-on, over the rocks and be drug under water. Why is it so hard for me to make the decisions I want to make, if only in my heart.
I wonder if I had fixed up these feelings a long time ago, then maybe I wouldn't be in a raging storm. But I know that probably isn't true. It doesn't matter. I have a love/hate relationship with trials. I love them for learning me to be better. I hate them for the wicked scars that remind me.
At this point I am standing at the edge. This is an extremely dangerous place. It looks pretty in spots, but the rocks are just below the surface. Their powerful jagged edges saying, "this is no place to jump in...." They echo their words as a warning. I stand at the edge for hours. For days. Contemplating consequence. Contemplating how I care either way. I long to care. Then I am tired and long not to care.
This is where the weather turns. It has to. I want to force it away but it has to run it's course as with times before. And the truth is that it will change. For the better. The tide will rise above the rocks, if I can just hold on until then. If I can just learn to be still and wait on the tide.