I. Just. Don't...

The other night I was driving home in some terribly shitty weather. We're talking icy roads, whiteout conditions and all that jazz. Our first real snow of the year and it was kind of dumping on us. I don't enjoy driving in snow as it is, so that didn't help any. My drive from work is, on a good day, maybe 30 minutes. Remember, I drive slow even when it's nice, I try not to be in a hurry unless necessary. On this night, it took me an hour and a half to get home. There were a couple moments when I was legitimately scared that something horrible might happen to me.

As I was driving, I kept thinking to myself about all the things we don't say to people for whatever reason we give ourselves. The people we don't tell how important they are to us. The people who don't tell how much we love. The people we don't tell how much we appreciate. The people that we live for - whether they know it or not.

I thought about other kinds of people too. People that we might have done wrong. People that we wish we could give apologies too but feel the proper time has passed. People we've ignored in their suffering. People we've turned out backs on for one reason or another. People that, for one reason or another, just aren't part of our lives.

I thought about these people and I thought about the things I would like to say to them. I thought about people that were in that category that aren't here any more to tell those things to. I thought about the possibility of me no longer being here to tell the ones left their importance and it all seemed very clear: I need to do this for these people whether they appreciate it or not. I need to do this for these people even if they don't take me seriously. I need to do this for me just as much as them because they deserve it and I don't want this burden.

As I was driving home and thinking these things it seemed like the most important thing in the world. I wanted to come home and reach out to everyone that I had thought of directly and immediately. I wanted to make phone calls, I wanted to send texts, I wanted to write e-mails, I wanted to send letters... but it was too late for all that and I was too tired. I needed to sleep.

So sleep I did. When I woke up the next day, everything was still on my mind. It stuck with me. But, a guy's gotta work and he doesn't have time to be calling around all day or writing messages. So to work I went and thought about it all day and again on my drive home (but this time less treacherous).

My drive in this morning was another scary one and, again, the thoughts persisted. I thought about it all the way in to work, I thought about it all day at work, and I thought about it on my (again, scary) drive home. Clearly, I'm still thinking about it.

So, whoever is reading this, I pose this question to you. Why, when I do sit down to even write a message, or make a phone call, do I stop myself? Why can't I do it? I wish I had an answer, but I don't. I. Just. Don't...