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Hello Journal,

I don’t know what to say to you. I’ve been meaning to write to you, but it's one of those things... the longer I went in silence, the harder it became to start again. I fear that you may have taken up the keyboard and written me off. I feel guilt. made promises to you. I’ve broken promises to you. I once told you that I would try to write every day. Well, here we are- broken and estranged. I haven’t spoken to you in months. You haven’t been my sounding board. I’ve been silent. If you recall, I made you another promise. Once upon a time in our favorite coffee shop, I promised you that I would be honest with you. I wish I committed to be honest with myself as well. I promised I would bleed on the keys for you. It turned out that it wasn’t just for you. Logging my thoughts, recording my life was good for me as well. Here’s a moment of honesty.(even though the shops are still closed) Correct me if I am wrong, but I don’t think we’ve sat down together since before— before the world fell on its face. Truth be told, I’ve fallen on mine too. I gave up shortly after I wrote the book. Finishing it and getting published was an achievement, but I didn’t use it. That first book was supposed to be a gateway into a new career for me. What did I do? I contracted out the marketing work to a firm across the country. I turned over my social platforms, everything. They turned out to be con artists. I absolutely crashed any prayer of seeing a profit from those forsaken pages. All due to a simple lack of follow through. It was the beginning of the fall for me. You know, the one where I landed on my face? I tried to pivot and do something else, but I failed again. And again. As we moved across the country, I hit the emergency fuel shutoff button in my mind. I disappeared. The sun set on me when I entered the “sunshine state.” I saw the world as it burned on every screen I came across, Like I could say anything to you about it anyway. What could I say? What could my commentary be worth? Then It hit me. I had no worth. A tailspin of depression as well as resurfacing health issues sent me down to the ground. I watched as my two little girls grew by the minute. I made sure I took pictures, not just because I knew I would forget.. Also because I didn’t know if was really there. The small part of me that was still alive didn’t want to miss it. I had a demon whispering to me. Removing my presence from my family. In all honesty I thought at the time they looked better without me. At a time when I was contemplating all the damage I’d done to the people I love most in the world, I was given a gift. An opportunity. A shot at a desk job. With that job came another reason to continue ignoring you. I could drop this ‘silly writing hobby.’ The dream that turned into a nightmare. I could stop trying to write and focus on something practical. I’d finally made it to the mainstream population. A traditional 9-5... A ticket to Happiness, or at least normalcy. That's what everyone else had right? I started working in my ‘real job’ praying that I wouldn’t get fired before making it through training. But Covid has a way of bringing people to a turning point.

6 seizures following An experimental Covid 19 vaccine. A week-long headache, and a dark isolated bedroom- all brought me to one of those aforementioned turning points. Some people say I tend to have “fleeting moments of clarity.” It’s true. Every so often I get better perspective or new insight. It wears off in a few days and I get right back into the same old rut. This experience was different. It wasn’t fleeting, it was a shift. I have found a new gear that I’ve never been in.. And I’m sorry Journal, you’re walking in a bit late. That’s my fault. I have been in this rut for over 10 years. Last week the reality of who I was, who I am, and who I need to become absorbed into my being. I’ve begun repairing the road underneath me. I am starting to pave a new road; one with more lanes. I’m learning to be everything I need to be for the people I love and for myself. I opened the adult apps on my computer, (productive ones) and now my time is no longer unaccounted for. I will always regret not being as present as I could have with my two daughters for over a year. The regret fuels the motivation to never discard another moment. It’s motivation to be the person they deserve to have, that my wife deserves, and that I deserve to be. Moving forward, I am pressing on with yet another relocation in just a few weeks' time. I’m lucky enough to bring my job with me, thanks to a telecommute. I’m making up for lost time with my beautiful family. I am taking my health step by step. Finally, I am coming back to myself and you, Journal. I’ve neglected you for far too long. I must keep creating. I’m dedicated to finding that place where I find balance. I know I will find you there as well. Thanks for waiting for me Journal. It’s good to be home.