In a little over 12 hours from now, I will depart for the journey that I have waited too long to make... I cannot even begin to describe what exactly is going through my head right now. I'm expecting the worse given that I haven't seen any good signs for the past few months since we've began talking to each other again. I am very doubtful. Perhaps a bit too doubtful, since most people would agree that whatever the end result may be, it would be a good thing for me. I do agree deep down, but as of right now, I really don't know how I will respond to a negative outcome. I'm scared shitless.
Once again, I'm asking for nothing less than a miracle. Nothing else would present the positive outcome that I hope for, as delusional, unrealistic, and plain irresponsible as I am. Whatever happens though, I know I need to be more faithful, not just to God, but to myself as well. I am only what I think I am. To overcome every difficulty in my life, I must believe that I am capable of doing it. Fears be damned.
So let me end this entry with another wonderfully boring story from WWII history (shamelessly taken from Wikipedia):
BATTLE OF MIDWAY: June 4 - 7, 1942
Task Force 16 Commanding Officer: Rear Admiral Raymond A. Spruance
The actual departure time of aircraft from Enterprise’s decks depended still on the distance each of the two opposing forces would cover, the direction of the wind and its velocity, the degree of accuracy of the reported position of the enemy, payload and fuel capacity, speed of manning the planes and starting them, time between first and last launch, combat radius, and “the time required to send the attack order by flashing light on the Hornet, also under Spruance’s command. Computing all this was Browning’s job, his considerable job. “But it had to be without delay. Spruance wanted his planes up and flying at the earliest possible moment.”
Browning computed 0700.
Spruance accepted.
So let it be written, so let it be done.
