There's a story you tell yourself,
a narrative of your life
that is braided together out of single, tenuous strands.
As you grow, learn, and age,
the thread gets stronger, reinforced —
to the point where you see not only where you've been
but also where you're going, the story's end.
Except — you'll never get there.
The rope will snap, the story unravel,
the fiction shown up as fraud. Left with nothing
but a handful of lies —
grasping, gripping, hoping, flailing, drowning in freefall.
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Ah yes. Loss and disappointment. Two things I know well, and yet I don't know how to *do* them well. Your expression is right on the mark in regard to that harsh moment when we realize that who we are and the life we are leading is not at all what we had planned or wanted or hoped. Don't despair, my friend. It is not the end of the process--or at least it doesn't have to be.
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