Escape artist

I guess it'll never get easy, the sadness I feel when I say goodbye to my father each time he goes home, and how everytime he's here, we experience the spectrum of emotions in a short cycle; of apathy, joy, anger, resignation ...  And how each time the subject of the future will be mentioned, it will always be evaded with such routine precision.

Now I find myself doing the same, avoiding anything I can't deal with at the moment.  I drift into my own little world to try to find the time I need to deal with the matter effectively ... or just wait for it to go away.  They keep coming back to haunt me the more I avoid and I know this cat and mouse chase cannot go on forever. I know that but I don't exactly know what to do.  I have become so dependent on this escape routine that I have learned and it's so far affected almost all my social interactions.

And true to who I am, I feel the way I can deal with this coddling is to escape it, to move out.  Go cold turkey on this dependence.  I need to learn to stand on my own two feet without needing to hold someone's hand all the time.

Somehow I also need to let go of the things that inspire me in order to let go of the clutter it brings in my life. There is no more space for frivolity.  There is no room for dreams I can no longer pursue.