Coffee for one.


I’m sitting here, watching snow fall on April 3rd and it feels a little cruel. I am not sure how people in Buffalo do this year after year, much less how I am supposed to do this year after year. I sometimes think about what drew me here, and what it’ll take to keep me here and if I am being honest – I get scared. I am always scared nothing will be enough. I’ll always be seeking greener fields and faces within different towns because I haven’t found a way to just settle down. What is my heart so afraid of within “settling down”? I have yet to figure it out…

I still daydream so much about Austin, Texas. The cowboys (ohhhh, that turquoise & boot wearing crew), the open roads, the down south comfort, chickens, huge trees and rivers for miles & miles. I think that life could keep me happy. It’s hard to imagine never living that life and staying in Buffalo. Alas, the universe brought me here for a reason, it’s just time to let it keep me a while I suppose. Letting go of what I thought my life would be like, and where I am now is so hard sometimes.

I still close my eyes and have quick daydreams of a baby in my arms, and I wonder why I haven’t been given that yet, or if I ever will. I have had the same dream over & over of a little girl and suddenly waking up becomes so very cruel.

Quite honestly though, perhaps that’s why I haven’t let myself settle down. I’ve seen more biter divorces & custody battles than a family attorney and I can count on one hand how many happy marriages I’ve seen last more than a decade, so, perhaps I’m scared. I am scared enough to always walk away, which is what I’ve done in every single relationship. I walk away. I fear I’ll continue this until I’m on my death bed…and that’s enough to keep me awake at night.

My life is just breezing by and I’m still alone in this huge loft apartment with so many ambitions and fears within it all. If I am being honest, sometimes I want to give up. Settle down, get a 9-5, live that grind and just let it happen. I know that’s not me and I’d go stir crazy if I gave this all up again but it’s incredibly difficult to imagine struggling trying to be a “photographer” til I die, possibly alone and with no children even.

It just doesn’t make sense sometimes – what is this all for? I suppose many of us ask that question often, perhaps we don’t say it out loud, but it’s there lingering in the back of our heads waiting for a hopeful escape.

If you’re one of the lucky ones who has it figured out and sleeps peacefully at night, I applaud you. If you’re still struggling, still questioning, still fighting the good fight – let’s sit & have some coffee. This can just be so heavy.



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