A year and a half ago I was a happy woman. I had hopes and dreams. I felt my life coming together the way I wanted it to for the first time. A year and a half ago I stood at the end of an outdoor aisle, wearing a beautiful dress with a bagpipe playing softly in the background. I stood looking at the love of my life with his groomsmen looking dapper in their kilts. My dear children flanked me. I was at peace in my world.

I feel so lost. It is as if I was thrown from my ship of dreams during a terrible storm. I am a castaway, floating on one of those yellow rafts. The beacon light is flashing but no one is coming to my rescue. I am running short on supplies. I have to make a decision soon. It could be the difference between finding safety, security and a new ship of dreams or dying alone, floating in a sea of emptiness. I lay awake at night, through the soft plastic of my raft I am feeling the gentle undulations of the ocean under my back, a constant reminder that my ship is gone.

I have made preparations to do something bold, but something holds me back. Why am I so scared to take the next step. Is there a flaw in my plan that I missed during my hours of scrutiny? What if I don't make it to land? What if I never find another ship of dreams? Can I live with that disappointment? I do not want to die alone in the life raft, but I cannot bring myself to risk dying during escape.

I know what I ultimately want, but still, I don't know what to do...