Copyrighted by Lorna Tedder. Originally published in Love in the Third Degree.
It’s the adverbs of life that are just killing me right now.
There are certain things that I want answers to. Some things, I’ve wanted answers to for a long, long time. In some cases, I know eventually I’ll get them, but I want those answers now.
I want to know why. I want to know when. I want to know where. I want to know how. I want to know how much and under what conditions. Yeah, it’s the adverbs that are giving me trouble.
I don’t talk about it outside my journals. Expressing my heartfelt desire for answers usually meets with stupid platitudes about letting go and letting God or having patience or some shit like that. Or some snarky comment that I’m obsessive. That’s easy for other people to spout. If it were them, they’d want answers, too. In fact, I’ve seen these same people in situations where they desperately wanted answers and got none and they didn’t let go, didn’t let God, weren’t patient, and/or were obsessive. But these aren’t their adverbs so it’s easy to either be amused by or ignore my need for answers.
I want answers. I wish I didn’t but I do. There are times when I wish someone would just sit down and write out everything I need to know, every detail, so I could see it all for what it is and decide what I want to keep and what I want to throw away and put some things into my little treasure box and wear others proudly.
Yes, I want answers. Is that so bad? Sometimes it’s the not knowing that’s the cruelest. Once you have the answers to your adverbs, then you can decide what to do based on that information. Until then, you live with a foundation you can’t see and can’t assess. You can live just fine that way, and even be happy that way, but there’s always the nagging doubt of whether the right bricks were laid when you built your plans for the future.
I need answers to my adverbs before I can take on the strongest action verbs.
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