I awoke, awash in guilt. 9:14. I tried to remember what it was that I felt guilty about, maybe something I did yesterday, or is this one of those times that I remember it was all a dream and welcome a rush of relief and snuggle back under the covers?

I had a dream last night that Nate and I were going to elope, and that thirty minutes before the wedding not only was I not sure I wanted to do it, but I couldn't find a place to plug in my curling iron - although why was I looking for that in a hardware store? I was wearing frilly white and looking for an electrical outlet amongst slabs of blackboard. The elopement was secret but I called my mother to ask what she WOULD think of it if I DID elope, and her response was a sigh and that she didn't want to talk about it right now.

Maybe I felt guilty from the dream, or maybe the dream was a result of my guilt. I feel like this relationship and my living in Kansas is taking me away from my family and that they somehow need me. Guilt.

I feel guilty because there are three to five people who have left me voicemails, nice, friendly, wondering why I haven't called or written. Their voices are starting to sound terse, disappointed. And why haven't I called or written? I don't know. Except that when I think about calling or writing, I think about how long it's been and how many people there are and I panic and brush it all under my bed with a big mental sweep of guilt.

So I'm writing a blog to purge my thoughts and fly them like sails instead of dragging them around like anchors.