I spend a lot of time waiting for things to happen.  My over involvement with others is unhealthy and does not equal love and care. 

I am unique.  The damage is invented; you suffer from the disease of perception. 

On the plane ride home from Puerto Rico I had a panic attack.  The pilot said we had to reroute to the Keys, the Florida Keys.  Too much rain; much too much wind.  Instead we circled, an extra hour in the sky.  I read a collection of short stories and cried.  I didn’t comprehend what I was reading.  I cried and the couple next to me had just gotten married.  The woman wore jeans and an oxford and the man wore sweatpants and a polo.  They were tan and exhausted.  The wedding had been on the beach.  I wanted them to ask me if I was okay.   

I want things to come easy for me.  That is why I stop sometimes.