My Comfy Cocoon

WARNING: If you're looking for a chirpy, happy-go-lucky blog to brighten your morning, go look elsewhere. You have been warned. I will not be held responsible for foul moods, you hear? See, I've been trying to think of something clever and captivating and encouraging to share with you all morning. Blogger was offline for a while this morning, so it gave me an excuse to hide for a while a chance to really think about what I wanted to post, while I waited to be able to access my blog again.

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I've tried really hard to just be level-headed and neutral and not to set my heart on this Maybe Baby. But, that terrible thing called Hope wormed it's way through the cracks in my armour and it's left me really vulnerable. All I really feel right now is depleted.

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This roller-coaster ride isn't fun anymore. Please can someone press STOP so that I can climb off?

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Why couldn't I just be left alone to regain my life, instead of being dangled this carrot?

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One Maybe Baby has taken me right back to that very dark little hole that I retreat into in an attempt at self-preservation. It's become quite a comfortable little cocoon. I was used to being there, you see.

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But this Maybe Baby gave me an opportunity to glimpse life beyond that dark dungeon and it was so brilliant and beckoning and beautiful and ... now that it's been snatched away from me, I'm left blinded by it's brightness. Suddenly the darkness feels thick and suffocating.

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Someone once told me that darkness is merely the absence of light.

How enlightening.

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Maybe what they should have mentioned is that the darkness is much safer. No-one sees you. It's easier on your heart as long as you stay in your hole. It's also lonely and soul-destroying. And it's not living. Hibernating is a shameful way to live a meaningful life.

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So now I get to choose. Am I willing to climb out of my safe little cocoon and allow Hope's rays to warm me again? Right now, I can't safely say.