One of the scariest things I’ve realized about having a personal/book blog lately? People read it. Which means I can . . . post things. And people will see them. And comment on them. And what I say? It’s out in the ether — possibly forever.

Now, I have no delusions of grandeur — I’m not saying I’m one of the brightest intellectual stars in the sky, or that I’m debating some of The Big Issues of our time here on write meg! I am saying that it’s simultaneously thrilling and frightening that I have a forum in which I can . . . write about whatever I want. Mostly because there are so many things I wish I could write about, but know that’s not smart.

My head has been a jumbled-up mess lately. And as much as I would love to pour my heart out, I’m not fourteen years old anymore; that seems immature and, really, less than wise. I’ve had enough of immaturity and childish behavior lately. In fact, I’ve had my fill, to be honest. So I’m trying hard to just move forward, focus on myself and my writing and all the other exciting things in my life and not worry about people who clearly aren’t worrying about me.

But my heart is bruised.

And I don’t remember how to unbruise it . . . other than to trust that time will make me forget all the old hurts, I’ll lose myself in my work and things I love and, eventually, I won’t think about anything other than puppies, rainbows and ice cream again.

Making lists of happy things has made me happy — as has planning my trip to California! I leave for San Diego and Los Angeles in two days. I’m hoping a week with girlfriends in a beautiful place 3,000 miles from here will give me some much-needed perspective on everything, filling me with a sense of peace and renewal. Here’s to hoping I come home a brighter, sparkly person with about a thousand photos on my memory cards. (And maybe, if I’m lucky, a tan.)

I’m very fortunate to have the greatest friends, family and community I could ask for — and this fall will be filled with so many great things. I’ll surge forward, confident that the choices I make in the future will be the right ones — and bring me closer to my happy ending. I wear my ring daily. I go out of my way to take care of me, treating myself gingerly and carefully. I’m not unkind — to myself, or anyone else. I treasure my sense of humor, and my ability to see the best in others — even when they’re acting like jerks. I’m a hard worker. Sincerity and honesty are two of my greatest qualities.

Sometimes I fall too quickly . . . and don’t stop to make sure I’m not jumping blindly because, you know, I’ve been hurt. But being vulnerable isn’t a crime . . . and I’m happy I can still find a way to be open, even when my gut instinct is to hunker down as though a hurricane is roaring up the coast — boarding up my windows, nailing the doors shut, closing myself off and keeping quiet until the storm passes. But I didn’t do that. It was scary, and now it hurts — but I’m glad I did it.

Someday I’ll find someone who loves me the way that I love me . . . and until then? I’ll keep smiling, laughing and moving, knowing that someday — I will.