Maybe the dog ate it

I have lost my courage. I was set this morning, nocked back and ready to fly, aiming here to split myself and bury the point deep within the white of the page, but now I hesitate and we all know that he who hesitates is lost. (Does she who hesitates ask for directions?) I could use some direction at this juncture, an avatar. The phrase that keeps running through my head is a title from Eastern Philosophy class in high school - the emptiness that is full - although I consider it in a much different context than the author intends me to. A full emptiness. Like a lot of nothing, I suppose, but nothingness can be quite a thing itself. Look at me ramble. Look at me avoid the issue. (See Lanski. See Lanski run.) I am in a perhaps enviable position - I have had five years to change my mind; I have had a year of genuine cohabitation and at least three more attempts; I have had a year to myself to ponder things, to verify, to explore being my own person, to live the single life even while attached. I still choose this. Why is nearly impossible to say - the words do not come, there are no images. But there is still a reason. My emptiness is full of possibility and meaning - to understand I must lose my analysis and surrender to the unknown.