I keep thinking that there's no way to know what the worst will be anymore. All the predictions of what may or may not happen don't hold any water. I feel an enhanced sense of gratitude every time I walk safely into my apartment, where I can be with my cat, my books, my music, my thoughts (scattered all over the place as they are). And I just feel so awful thinking about the soldiers who have been stripped from their familiar environments and loved ones, and the civilians who are caught up in a war they didn't start, and who have no idea who they should trust or what might happen next. It's the lesson I've been learning over and over for the last three years since my dad died -- never take a happy day (or even just a plain old boring-but-safe one) for granted. Boy, do I feel that now.
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Fear and confusion
It will be good to see you this weekend, sweetie.