Sleep just doesn't seem to want to be my friend tonight. So I tiptoed downstairs to sit in the living room and ponder things that hurt my brain and lay heavy on my heart. I hate mixed messages. I hate them because they are... Well, they are mixed. I start to doubt the meaning of the original message. It was after all, a very forthright and intentional act. One that would be difficult to misinterpret. Is the latest message a replacement of the first, or just an attempt to mend broken bridges that are hanging with no support? It would be a lot easier if I could take messages in the spirit they are delivered, but being a typical woman, I have to look at everything from different angles to see if I'm missing something. That's when I get in trouble. I'm not ashamed to admit that I have to be careful about letting vain imaginations taint my reasoning.... Especially recently. I also know I'm not the only one with this particular habit, but it's not something people openly discuss. I suppose it's probably taboo which would explain my need to ponder the thing as a whole on my blog without discussing it in specifics. It just helps to write it out to see exactly how silly I may or may not be. I'm not anxious to jump into a pool that I could easily drown in, nor am I anxious to involve myself in situations where I could easily be hurt. I may be feeling better, but I'm not craving more rejection or stifled hostility from anyone. I may be coming out of my rabbit hole, but I'm still way too close to the edge to risk a nudge back over. I also know if I don't find a way to escape the edge I will be cheating myself out of the blessing of feeling needed, desired and most of all used in a positive sense. Baby steps, I just have to take baby steps until I have enough confidence to take a giant leap of faith into the pool of human risks. I'm thinking if I were ready for that, I wouldn't be up way past my bed time pondering the meaning of mixed messages that may not be mixed at all.