This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

My fears are less about death than about my own ‘unlived’ life
Coming economic hardship may help me understand Aunt Bessie
I’m slowly learning how to be contented as an ordinary man
English teacher tells Wellesley grads: ‘You’re nothing special’ — not yet
I still feel shame for wanting to pursue the desires of my heart
Do I oppose rulers because I hate rulers — or because I hate rules?
FRIDAY FUNNIES
God may be working on what we need long before we can see it
Does Ron Paul lead in Iowa? Does it matter for the long term if he does?