"There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all"

I'm back...to anyone who cares

So after a two year hiatus I've started to pick-up my blog again. Inspired by a reconnection with an old friend who has one of her own (it's on my list.) She discusses books and reveals how they have allowed her to delve into an exploration of her own person. Sorry for the poor grammar Leslie...yes we have the same first name. In pouring over her posts I was able to catch up, somewhat, on her life and found that there are so many similarities, not in the paths our lives had taken, but in the ebbs and flows of our emotions and the search to become ourselves.

The past two years have lead me down a dark road, unsure of who I am and what life has in store for me. In a constant state of trying to recreate myself I have become less and less "me." So much time wasted, countless opportunities loss, and such an encompassing feeling of loss and despair. I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole - the endless drop, all things swirling around me, not being able to focus on any one thing ... but without the sense of curiosity that Alice had. Only the fear that the fall would never end.

I have the heart of a wanderer - not content to settle down. In trying to accept my life as is and trying to appease every one's expectation of me I became fragmented, shattered, not even a shell of who I once was. A bull ran though my china shop breaking every single item until nothing remained, only shards of the different pieces of each persona I was playing out and when I tried to but everything back together nothing matched up right. I had all the puzzle pieces but none of them fit together anymore.

No longer will I try to rebuild the person I once was, she doesn't exist. I'm not quite sure she ever really did... only memories of who I though I was and lost dreams of who I thought I would become. A shadow of a life I had once expected, haunting me still.

I am tired of fighting, pretending, and compromising. There are "true" parts of me still somewhat intact. Slowly as I clean up the mess that has become me, I find tiny pieces still intact, my real self. I haven't come across many, but each one is like a little treasure that I don't want to lose again. Gingerly I pick it up, dust it off and explore the details - being careful to really understand what each piece means and why it got lost along the way.