Silence

I have a reason for it. Things are. . . .well, complicated. That seems to be the status quo these days, does it not? And yet, I'm not ready to talk about it. I know I've already gone private, and it's not that I don't trust you, my bloggy "inner circle", with the facts. It's just that I haven't decided -- well, much of anything. And until I do, I just don't feel comfortable putting it all out there. If I knew, for sure, that this was the end of the road, then perhaps then I could begin to unravel the last eight years. Perhaps then I could let the demons out without fear of judgment, of condemnation. To do so now, even under the cloak of anonymity, seems wrong. Maybe I fear what I would discover about myself as much as what you would think of me. Maybe I simply want to maintain some shred of dignity for my oft-maligned Mo. Maybe I still, somewhere buried deep within, have hopes that someday this will all be part of the distant past, and the happy visions I've carried for so long will become reality.

So much remains undecided, vague, uncertain. And, knowing nothing for sure, it just seems smarter easier to remain silent, until something solid emerges.