The lovers, the dreamers, and me

Okay, here's a not-so-secret secret of mine. When I was a kid, I was terrified of balloons.

Stick with me on this one.

I had to have been about five when I got a balloon from a grocery store. I remember in the parking lot, letting go of it, and watching it float up into the sky. My childhood imagination wondered where it would go, and what would happen. Would it hit an airplane? Would a bird fly into it? What damage could this balloon do to these things? Surely it couldn't simply explode- otherwise people would be hit on the head with latex balloon droppings from the sky daily.

In my terror, I refused to hold a balloon again.

Unable to articulate my fears, I would beg and plead for a balloon everywhere my parents took me, simply to scream and howl that they hold it, not me.

At this very young age, I felt a strong responsibility for things far beyond my control.

As a teenager, this feeling manifested in my social life. I would constantly try to control social situations and help my friends in their problems to an unhealthy degree.

And now? As a young woman?

I have GOT to get the next few years of my life in control. The wedding, the marriage, my home, my career, and the future.

And I've kind of let things chill for a few months. I have had a very laissez-faire attitude towards life. Boy and I have been engaged for six months and other than some casual lookie-loos, I haven't really progressed much.

I've been in a pseudo-depressive funk lately, and its because of the lack of progress. So, here's to the next step in my life- whatever it may be. I'll know it when I see it. But, I've got to get to the point in my life where I'm looking again. No more waiting around.

Because who knows what will happen?

I'm kind of like a balloon, floating up, up up..... Hoping to God a bird doesn't smack right into me.