A New Future, in 33 words.

This week's prompt at the Trifecta Writing Challenge is "new"; as always, we are to use the third definition in a 33-333 word response.

The third definition of new:

3: having been in a relationship or condition but a short time

Not surprisingly, at least to me, I have created a 33 word poem for your consideration:

I cannot see,
     only the dark remains;
once startled,
     cold sorrow awakens.
Selfish, empty words:
     the object of once
          pure hearts.
I resign.
Now to face
     a new future,
A life without light.

A Decision

Sometimes the best decision isn't right or wrong, it just is. This is hard for me to believe, no matter how often I have been saying it recently. It is just a decision. There, I've said it again. And yet, I still can't quite shake the feeling that maybe we are making the wrong choice. To go back to Nevada, that is. Just like when I was pushing hard to stay here in Florida, I felt that that was also the wrong decision. No matter what I do, I'm choosing poorly.

The other night, after I told my boss that we would be leaving, I had a meltdown. An uncontrollably-sobbing on my husband's shoulder type of meltdown. I usually cry silent tears, unless something dreadful has happened and then they may be a little more vocal, but, I.do.not.sob. Ever. In the last ten years it has probably happened two other times. Not only because I think I look funny, but also because I like to keep the majority of my emotions well contained.

Since the thought of leaving is nearly devastating, and the thought of staying is overwhelmingly stressful, I just have to keep telling myself that it is not about right or wrong--good or evil--it is just a decision.