The Whims of the Seasons

Now, I wonder about others. I don’t want to tip-toe around them. I don’t want to wonder if the only reason I’m included in holidays is because of some overblown sense of obligation, not because they actually enjoy my company. I’m not sure what my connection to them is right now. Before moving here, I anticipated the possibility that everyone would already have their lives established, and that space for additional seat the table might be hard to come by. Then the doubts began to creep in. Is it me? I often feel like I’m living on the outskirts, so . . . What are realistic expectations? Where are my boundaries?

I’m an aspen in a forest of evergreens whispering the whims of others’ seasons.