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.

Maturity asked me to learn that I’d never win certain arguments
Why is it so hard to make good art? It’s something I’ll never understand
God may be working on what we need long before we can see it
We’re often oblivious to what matters in life until it’s too late
FRIDAY FUNNIES
Death of classmate from past feels like a reminder to change my life
Your motivations tell me more about you than your actions do
Real-life ‘ghost story’: The tale of a house that didn’t want me there
My father’s narcissistic control left me resentful of all authority