I sigh. I’d promised myself that my next note would not have ‘me’, ‘myself’ or ‘I’ in it.
I sigh. As I realise I’ve miserably failed in my intention.
A sigh. Not one of regret. But one of getting it. The me, myself and I that was to come to an end was in my being not in my self expression.
I sigh. Because I know I’ve been here before. So, why is this going to be different?
I sigh. Out of exhaustion of running from nothing to nowhere. Of resisting.
I sigh. Because I know the results.
Yet I sigh. Because I know this time it’ll be different. I will step up to a new and different experience and, yes, get different results.
I sigh. Because. It’s time to say goodbye. To me, myself and I.
I sigh. To hide the trembling of saying hi. To us, us and us. To us.
I sigh. Because I’m still here with you and no,the gods did not shoot me.
I sigh. Because my side of the street only gets meaning with another in it except I.
I sigh. I’m good to go and emptied to do.
I sigh. The new openmindedness takes my breath away.
I sigh. The willingness to do it differently breathes new life into me.
I sigh. As I say goodbye and hi.