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are we there yet?

I’m stuck. Not with writing, with my life. I feel like my life doesn’t start until this initial move is finished.  Stuck finishing out my job, where I can’t do much except keep things afloat and try not to scream at the frustration. Stuck finishing out my lease, climbing around boxes and organizing paperwork and getting rid of things I don’t use or wear or want. Stuck. So many friends and former co-workers are getting engaged or married or having babies and I’m just…waiting.  Don’t get me wrong, I certainly don’t begrudge them their happiness.  I just feel like a car on blocks, revving my engine but going nowhere. I’m on the tarmac of life, waiting for my clearance to fly. Oh, that was bad, but accurate. And Mark has certainly been worth the wait, but in a way, that makes me feel stuck, too. When the man of your dreams is waiting for you, it makes the wait so much longer…

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