This story is about me. Only me. It’s about my ego and insecurities and fears and needs.
I typically write what I think might be useful for others to know and understand, but this is different. It’s more like a diary entry. A confessional. A cry of frustration.
It’s the sort of thing I would address to a wife or partner or trusted companion — if I had a woman in that role. It’s my half of a conversation which I would need to have with someone who loved me and believed in me and was permanently a part of my life.
So this probably isn’t for you.
I’m struggling right now. In many ways, things are the best in my life that they’ve been for at least 20 years. I have stability and purpose again. I know where I want to go. I’m more clear about my values and my priorities than I’ve ever been in my life.
But I’m struggling with the gap between how things ought to be and the reality I see in front of me. And that gap terrifies me — because nobody lives forever.

A warm and loving heart can finally turn to cold indifference
We can’t agree what intelligence is, but it defines some of us
Trusting Obama to create jobs is like trusting an arsonist to put out fires
Was he angry to lose his family? Or because he lost his control?
We love great tales of salvation, but real change rarely happens
Head and heart don’t agree about love, including Valentine’s Day
We repeat what we fail to repair, so I keep re-learning old lessons
When we feel we’ve lost control, our behavior stops making sense
Have choice between two loves? Failing to choose may lose both