Authenticity

What kind of coward would I be? I've asked myself that several times in the past few weeks. I've taken strength from unexpected places, and been lifted up by people whom I will owe a lifetime of gratitude. And still...

The week after Antioch is always the toughest. There is this great sense of loss, like you have come so close to touching something miraculous only to fall off at the last second and be plunged back into the harsh, cold, and uncaring real world.

Like you've almost grasped the Golden Ring, and somehow ended up face down in the dirt, completely empty handed.

You're suddenly left without people who you have come to believe are essential to the very being of your soul.

It gets tougher every year.

And then of course...other things go wrong.

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On top of that I got a pretty disturbing phonecall right in the middle of it all. A phonecall which said something so totally outrageous that it's hard to believe...except for the fact that I'd considered it before, even if for just a second. I should probably ignore it, probably just let it go. There's so much potential for wrong here that it's not even close to being funny. But there's that part of me that just has to know. That part of me which is curious. See I know that no matter how it turns out, it won't affect me in any way. But I still need to know, I still need to be sure.

So Antioch's over, and I've lost another friend. I'm fairly sick, though nobody's quite sure what's wrong with me. Work is busy, and there's no relief on the horizon. Things should be bleak and grey. But they're not. I don't know exactly why that is. I just know that there are people out there, whether they're in my life still or not. People who I care about. People who at one point or another cared about me. How they feel about me may change, but how I feel about them stays exactly the same.

My name is Christian Palomba.

And I'm ready for whatever comes next.