Checking in

I'm posting this now as an open letter to the people that I have neglected. I have neglected them not only in the social sense, but in the real sense in that they deserve better than I have offered them. The fault for this is entirely my own. I have no real excuse for my reticence other than the most basic level of building expectation of fear. The longer communication languishes, the farther apart the lines of any given conversation are drawn, the more difficult it is for those lines to come back together. It is observable in physics as in an oiled downward slope. The farther an object falls the more velocity and inertia it has, therefore the more energy it will take to stop let alone reverse direction. So, after even a relatively short period of time, one may begin to wonder is it too late? Is this trend reversible at all? Do I have the energy to get it back where it was? If I fail and it gets dropped again is it going to crush me?

These are the thoughts I have while considering whether or not to pursue communication at times. The truly sad part is that I'm not the only person that I'm hurting, and often it's my own fear that is unsubstantiated and merely fabricated by my innate tendency towards isolationism.

This is something I will always fight. There will be times that see more success than others. There are times I will crawl into my shell for fear of the image I see of myself in others' eyes, and there will be times where I shed my shroud and proclaim myself to the world.

This is not meant as a personal appeal. This is merely an apology. An admission of acceptance. I accept that I have failed some of the people that I have cared the most about for purely puerile and selfish reasons. I accept that no amount of apology or appeal to sentiment can make up for the, in some cases, years of distance and silence. I also accept that in many cases the lines have ceased to exist and are not capable of being redrawn as they were.

But today, I am willing to make the effort. Today I will seek to draw these lines together once more. The paradox is this; the more distant and removed you become from the world, the smaller and more restrictive your world becomes. My horizons are resting lightly on my shoulders. Tunnel vision is only a restriction to those that know that there is more to see. I have seen much, and known many, and yet have allowed my eyes to go blind.

I want to see again.