I know this place too well.  All of my doubts and my mistakes haunt me.  Whispers of heartbreak and ambiguity follow me everywhere.  Songs and memories decide to arrive at my doorstep at this moment of uncertainty, taunting me, reminding me of possibilities lost.  These ghosts precede every step and echo every word.  The strength that defines me is draining out of my core.  All of the certainties are broken into a million shards of worry and doubt.  

Who is this person?  This timid, meek girl?  Who is that?  Part of me knows that all of the decisions, all of the mistakes, all of the hurts have made me stronger, have made me more ready for the future that awaits.  But loneliness and guilt are tough adversaries.  They seem to have taken up residency in my brain, and they are going to be difficult to eject.  

I know this place too well; it feels like home to me.  

But I don't want to live here.  This won't always be my norm, my touchstone.  This won't always be me.  

In another moment of weakness, one of my other weaknesses said, "You have more going for you than anyone else in this room.  At least you have options."  Then he asked me, "How can you regret a decision that was right for you?"  Out of all of the things he's said to me or not said to me over the years, this was one of the most poignant.  

I think he's right.  At least, I hope so.