The Mad Ramblings of a Serious Wine Drinker

I'm sitting here drinking my favorite wine that my friend gave to me. It is Honeywood 1986 (the logan berry flavor) yummy. And pondering the things that a drunk mind ponders, such as the heat that I can feel in my legs from the wine. Its a nice warm feeling, I wish I could share. Jolene my friend who brought me the wine, told me last night, that I would be many things in my life, but alone wasn't going to be one of them. I fear being alone very much. I feel alone a lot, though there have been days recently that I haven't. I have people I talk to, some alot more than others, some I tell things to that no one knows. I have a select few people who really know what is on my mind most of the time. Though I keep alot to myself with all of them. I guess I hold things back for fear of people knowing how I really feel. I don't understand why everyone has such an interest in me and my life. Sometimes I think I am the only person who feels the way I feel right now, I honestly don't know how some of the people in my life feel about what is going on. It would be great to know, but at the same time, I haven't shared my feelings with anyone else, so I have no right to ask it of them. I am just at a point where things have to change, and very soon, but the guilt of hurting slows my hand and the axe waits a little longer to drop. But it will drop soon, and everything will become red for a while. I am not eager to see everything I have worked for sink into the changing sea of life. My mother told me once that some things need to die for others to live, and someone else told me that "God never closes a door with out opening a window somewhere". I don't know if I have found the window, or if I ever will, but a door is closing, and a chapter is ending. I can only hope that the light I see is my window, and that it doesn't close before I can make my way to the light. What comes next is a complete mystery to me. So for now, I ride the waves, numb from the cold and alone until the tides bring back the warmth that has given me hope.