With my mind racing from all the old news I obtained today via the girls at work, I ran into a song I drafted a couple of years ago on my itunes.  The lyrics?

Little did I know in the midst of plans and making dreams come true / there is no room for lovers and there is no room for me and you / but that’s okay, baby stay / watch me as / I run up to the mountain ready to set my fears behind / show you what I really mean to do and won’t you be surprised / when I pass you by / baby, I // choose to dive to the ocean, running right off of this mountainside / yes, I know you don’t think love has wings for a heart my size / but I still want to know / just how far I’ll go / if I fly a little / try a little / watch me fly // You can be frightened all you want but, honey, I won’t force your hand / it’s time for you to decide on your own if love is worth it, man  / oh my, baby, I / choose to dive to the ocean, running right off of this mountain side / yes, I know you don’t think love has wings for a heart my size / but I still want to know / just how far I’ll go / if I fly a little / try a little / I might cry a little / even die a little/ because love doesn’t have a plan / it just gives you wings and you hope you land...

And I heard their words.  And I knew their words.  They confirmed all the thoughts I had been thinking, all the assumptions I had been assuming, and all the disappointments I had been anticipating.  All the drama I had been stepping around, met me face to face in the form of old news.  “You see?  You knew it all along,” each minute seemed to say to me, “There is no need to seek the truth when the truth is clearly set before you.”

I know you think love doesn’t have wings for a heart my size, but I still want to know what will happen if I jump off this cliff.  Because you see, old news and new news are sometimes the same thing.  And sometimes all our decisions are the same, too.