Has it really been that long?

I consider myself a writer by trade. So, how has a writer gone this long without writing in my journal?
Life is a whirlwind and maybe I am not interested in being introspective. One day I work on a program, the next day there is no program. One day I have project work, the next day the project is cancelled. I learn that everything I thought I knew about a friend was wrong. A friendship I thought was gone and no longer possible re-emerges as a real possibility.
Life has no guarantees, I know that. There are car accidents, train wrecks, missed stop lights, closing doors every day. The road not taken lingers on our minds. Almost a year ago I ran into this same train wreck, metaphorically speaking. I thought I had moved on beyond it and made a new life. Now it turns out the new life may be coming to an end.
It's not so much sad as ....unsure. i'm working to embrace the unknown ....yet it is still grey and gauzy and unsure and not quite metamorphisized. I guess we never finish growing.