“You’re in a tizzy again.”  The wings fluttered against my ear, nearly a delicate purr.

I clutched the edges of the book, resisting the urge to slam it into my skull.  “I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what I want.”

“Yes, you do.”  The butterfly crept down my arm, curiosity in every step.  “You know what you want.”

The pages crinkled under my fingers.  “I have no idea how to get there.  I thought I did, but I was wrong.”  I bit back the tears, my teeth digging into my lip.  “I have no right to complain, I have what everyone dreams of.  But I want to do more, want to be more.  And every time I think I’m going down the right path, something stops me.”

The wings opened and closed, the tiny black antennae twitching attentively.

“It was easier before, when I had rules.”  Emotion choked me, iron bands of confusion tightening around my chest.  “When you’re growing up, you know what you have to do.  You go to school, go to college, get a job.  And now I have what everyone dreams of.  I have options, possibilities.  I’ve got the opportunity to pursue what I’ve always wanted, what I’ve dreamed of.”  I swallowed, hard.  “But it feels like I can see it on the horizon–the golden prize.  But there’s a million paths, a million directions.  And I go down one, just to go down another, just to move to another.”  I buried my face into the pages, the delicate wings brushing against my cheek.

“So then I pull out my map, and I make a new plan, a new path.  But there’s always an obstacle or a fork–something I didn’t expect.  And then I feel like a tiny dot, lost and bobbing along uselessly.”  I raised my head, tears pooling at the butterfly’s feet.  It blurred the words of the page, forever staining the story.  “I’m tired of bobbing around.  I’m tired of feeling like I don’t know what I want.”

“Do you know?”  The words were as quiet as the gentle folding and unfolding of the pale yellow wings.

“I do and I don’t.  I know what I want and what I don’t want.  I just don’t know where to find what I want.   I don’t know where my niche is.”  I puffed out my cheeks, exhaling slowly.  “And I feel like I’m standing there screaming.  Everyone’s listening and everyone agrees.  But my words just disapear, unheard in the void.”  I shook my head.  “Everyone’s so encouraging and supportive.  I have no right to complain.  But I’m frustrated.  Things aren’t moving as fast as I want, or moving at all.  I don’t know what to do.”

“Of course you do.”  The tiny legs crawled up my arm, the wings beating against my arm.  “It’s what you’ve always done.  It’s what you do.”

I looked down at him and smiled.  “I guess it’s all I can do.”

“Do what you love, and the rest will solve itself,” the butterfly advised, nestling onto my shoulder.  “And I’ll be here with you.”

I nodded, wiping the drying tears from my cheeks.  And then I picked up my pen, and did the only thing I could.

I wrote.  I read.  I dreamed.

And I still do.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Tomorrow we have more whimsy, Wednesday a new Shimmer and Thursday a new recipe and book review!

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