It's A Nice Place to Visit...

but I don't want to live there...

It is pleasant to have been to a place the way a river went. -Henry David Thoreau

Ahem.

I went.

I observed and half-heartedly participated. I enjoyed the company of my friend-family and filled my lungs with fresh air and campfire smoke. I laughed and sang and looked at the stars from the edges with the din of happy voices as background music.

My mind was elsewhere.

I was one of the first to hit my tent that night; I was anxious to have the time to myself. I liked hearing the noise coming from the top of the hill and while I expected to feel nervous and scared, I felt no real anxiety at all. I expected to feel sorry for myself and lonely but that's not what happened. I felt peaceful. What I didn't expect to feel was COLD. It was August in Misery for crying out loud. I only made it until about 3:45am when I bailed and slept in the van when I woke up freezing and in the fetal position from being so cold. I think I was actually saved from hypothermia by some muttering hasher using his car's lock/unlock [beep....beep boop...repeat]feature after stumbling around for a good long time trying find his tent.

So.

It was good to be out on the river with friends. Not caring how dirty or sweaty or silly we all got. Life is good and I am blessed.

Ouch.

I stumbled onto a free rego for the camping/floating trip this weekend.

I agreed to go.

I will be sleeping alone in a tent. For the first time ever.

I am afraid of being outside, alone, in the dark.

I am also afraid of being alone.

Both of those things are the reasons I have to go.