I’m restless today. I feel the nervous energy and anxiety like I am preparing for a big trip. It’s not negative at all.
I find that I am missing FL, because it was always so easy to take a quick road trip when I felt this way. I could run down to the Keys, or over to Miami and play around for a bit. I find that I am considering running down to Savannah, or up to the mountains. I was even thinking about taking the RV, but it is a bit of a pain in the ass to secure everything. It is also significantly more money for gas, then just taking my convertible.
I have spent the morning transcribing and burning old love letters. In anticipation of traveling and moving around with my love, I have been purging everything that isn’t useful to me now. I sent a bunch of boxes of things to my children last week, and I am now faced with what to do with old journals and mementos of the past. It seems foolish to just toss away these things, so I am transcribing them to my blog, then burning them. If I should ever have the desire to look upon them again, I will have them, but they are not one more piece to carry around.
In truth, this purging has been liberating. I find that I am able to let go of things that I have carried for decades. Living like a gypsy requires a careful consideration of every item that you possess. If it is simply for decoration, I donate it. If it holds sentimental value, I send it to my children. If it is, as is now the case, old journals and love letters, I am uploading it to my blog, then burning them.
As I have been reading the letters from my ex, I find my heart strangely unaffected. It makes me glad to release the letters into the ether. I am curious, when I begin doing the same with my journals, how I will feel. I feel light, almost giddy. I know that in purging the old, I am opening up space energetically for the new, and it is a curious feeling. I observe the thoughts and feelings that run through my mind. I long for a call or message from my lover, yet I understand that he is under no obligation to entertain me. He has a life, as do I, and he has no need to rush in the moment my mood or thoughts change on a whim. He will reach out, as he always does, and I will feel the love and comfort that he provides.
Since I finally have a date for his return to me, my mind has been racing. I have been full of thoughts and preparations. I have had a new book bouncing around in my head, and I have begun fleshing it out. It is amusing that some of my best writing comes to me when I am doing a massage. I have to quickly record what I am thinking between sessions. It is my hope to have it finished before my darling returns, but I cannot rush it. I have so many ideas for things, and I just need to let them mature in my thoughts, rather than erratically pushing something before it is ready.
And so, here I sit, vaguely anxious and restless. I still have another 40 letters or so to transcribe to finish this batch of letters. I also have a whole binder of letters from years ago. It makes me wonder why I have kept them. I suppose, like a true writer, you never know from whence inspiration will come.