I'm back.

I haven't written in a while. It's tough to censor what I write. I want to be able to write freely but I have learned just because I cherish writing as a cathartic hobby does not mean I can slander and disseminate private information on a whim in order to free my demons. As important as journaling is to me I know that not all worries or complaints or frustrations can be for the general public. I need to save those raw sentiments for my personal journal, which needs to be my own.

I miss writing daily. I miss writing about my mundane days. I miss writing about my insecurities. I miss writing about my wonderment of the future, my anxiety for the future.

When I was single I could write whatever I wanted because I was a loner. I was able to examine myself inside and out with no consequences. Now I have a boyfriend, who is more than just a boy friend. He is my partner, my mate. . .my soul mate. In a way, he is an extension of me. And because I had no problem critiquing myself, I had no problem critiquing him. The disdain for myself and my lack of respect for myself spilled over to my perceptions of him. I never gave him a chance because I don't even give myself a chance.

To some people that might not make sense. But when you have no love for yourself, how is it possible to love someone else? There is glimpse of a heart of gold within me, but it is crushed under emotional rubble. There are times when that rubble shifts and there is a glimmer of the person I once was and the person I can be.

I've wanted to write about the journey I am on with him, but I'm not sure why. Do I think it's juicy? Do I think it may be of help to a reader? Is it for venting purposes? Is it to try to push my pain on him? I don't know the reason. Even if it's helpful for me to let it loose, it's still harmful. My slanderous drivel is still etched in his heart.

I still feel very uncomfortable writing at this time. It's a combination of worry. I worry I may say too much. And selfishly I worry it's been so long since I've written anything I write will be, gulp, BAD.

But all I can do is try.

This journey is uphill, downhill, sun filled, rain drenched, treacherous, slow, fast. It's without a map, without a plan, with an elusive destination soaked with love, passion and understanding. It's frustrating, it's hard, it's hurtful, it's unhealthy. It's beautiful, it's untouchable, it's so worthwhile. It's everything love should be for him and me. Today it's getting better. Today the journey is easy. Maybe tomorrow I will write that it's too hard. Or maybe I won't write at all.