Waking up at random times throughout the night seems to be a common occurrence these days, but today I needed to get up. Busy Monday, busy week, busy life.
As I lay in my bed tucked underneath a soft blanket listening to the rain, I could not help my mind from wandering back to the summer.
I was back in Michigan, if only for a few moments, listening to the sound of the rain come down on our cabin. I am savoring the last moments of silence before my co-counselor nudges our campers to wake in her sing-songy English accent.
Because, as much as I wanted to back in Georgia all summer, I knew in Michigan I was safe. I had a text from the boy to wake up to almost every morning and got to show my love to sweet children all day. I clung to the way I thought my life was going, not the reality.
The reality was my campers were 12 and did not know how to be self-sufficient. They relied on me for tasks a six-year old could accomplish. And the boy, let me be so bold to say, we obviously were not clinging to the same things all summer.
So now, as I sit, still listening to the rain patter off the roof, I know I am not in Michigan anymore. My fairy-tale is not going to come true, not now anyway.
But for a moment this morning, as I pretend the blanket I was snuggling into was red and the girls across from me in bunks were not roommates, but campers, in that solitary moment, I was safe within my realm of dreaming. My heart was full and my fears were scarce.
But was I better off?
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