I Feel Like Amy Pond

7 the rest - sunday

Hey guys,

So, it’s been a couple of eons since I’ve last blogged anything. If anything, it’s safe to say from a visitor’s perspective of my blog that I’ve been completely obliterated from the year 2016 … but I haven’t been. In all honesty, if there was any time for me to be recording the happenings of any year – it would be 2016. But, 2016 has honestly been a year of many uncertain ups and downs – when really it shouldn’t have any downs at all.

I don’t know … I’m honestly coming into this post not knowing my current objective – which, as anyone in any job scope or understanding of game play knows, is really a bad idea.

I feel like I’m on a precipice. I feel like there are many things that I’m seeing this year that are going very wrong … and a few small things that are turning right, and I’m still trying very hard to figure out where I fit into things – when I have absolutely no time to breath and think.

And I think that’s been happening a lot lately. So many important things are happening and I should be in the present and I feel like I should have certain emotions – but I’m being pulled in so many different ways. And I know nothing is going to change once big milestones are crossed … and yet everything will be different.

I feel like Amy Pond.

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That’s it.

I feel like Amy Pond and I need the Doctor to come over and provide me some perspective on the eve of my very big day; let me float in space in my nightie and stare down at the earth, and remind me that everything is so very very small and yet so very very big at the same time. And that I am so insignificant and yet so very important as well. And that everything can be going so very wrong and that can be alright, and everything can seem all well and good and also be so incredibly wrong – but so long as I am brave and strong and patient, so very patient, and wait and hope – I can be saved from it all.

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I wish I was somehow wiser, that I could spend a year or so drifting off in the space-time continuum – as the cracks in my bedroom wall – in time – grow wider and wider as I neglect my responsibilities.

So …

I came here to write about how I felt about this day, before the big day. But all I can write about is how time seems to have moved far too fast and slow at the same time. And my mind has been so cluttered and empty with so many unimportantly important things.

And I wish I was instead eating fish finger custards at a small table in the middle of the night with the Doctor, just worrying about a crack in my wall.

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And it’s not that I don’t love my Rory. But because sometimes you feel robbed of the time you could have spent contemplating about what is missing in your life … that something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue … could have happened. But in reality never will.

I feel like some fairytales need to end for some to begin.

And currently my Amelia Pond mind is in denial. But it’ll be okay, Amy. You have the Last Centurion. And some times time travel doesn’t have to be grand to exist in real life.

Till next time,

(an honestly far too cryptic) cumuloq