Many days, I can look at myself with a degree of objectivity. I am a human being. I have feelings and desires. I act on them, or choose not to. I am the sum of my choices and experience. I have successes and failures. I do the very best I can. I care, often more than I should. I am a mess, and a solution, and I'm complicated. We all are.
Then, on other days, I'm nothing more than a single number. There is nothing more to my identity than one number that I cannot be proud of. No matter how I fight to take the power from that number, I cannot seem to separate it from me. It is me. I am it.
On those days, it doesn't feel good.
This is one of those days. Excuse me while I count and curse myself.
2 comments:
You are a number of wonder-full things. You are caring and beauty-full. You have a great job, a man who loves you, friends and family who love you dearly, bicycles for adventuring on the beach, an uncanny way with words, and great taste in wine, to name a few.
Love you.
I totally get it.
Loves!
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