you might think i’m bullet proof, but i’m not

From my driver, bringing me home from the airport last night: “You are a blessed woman. It is contagious. I will go home and also be blessed.”

It’s true. I know it’s true and I see it and I feel it and I believe it. But I’m always on guard for it all to go wrong. Or for something else to go wrong. For every good thing, a bad thing has to happen to keep the scales balanced. Even though I know that’s not true at all and the scales are tipped well into the blessed scale.

I don’t know the answers and I never know the answers and I wish I knew the answers. And I’ve written about it before and over and over again and still. All I’m really looking for is peace.

I know the writing in the journal makes it seem like I’m never happy and I’m actually mostly happy. And I know that I’m one of the lucky ones.

But never perfect.

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