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.

Wait, was she flirting with me? My history shows I’m clueless
What are you likely to regret when it’s too late to change?
We can’t agree what intelligence is, but it defines some of us
Lousy personal choices are at root of most of our problems
If authentic connection is absent, we crave love and a human touch
They can’t get anybody high, but Smarties are latest ‘drug craze’
What if ‘the Good Old Days’ were never as good as you remember?