Being

I am feeling creative today, with the urgency to let my thoughts flow onto screen, and paper with pens.

I wonder about having an appearance “twin” out there in the world, somewhere. Another girl who looks just like me. I wonder what else we’d have in common.

I hear the introduction of one of my favorite love songs, “The One” by Gary Allan. Could easily be our wedding song some day. A bit of the lyrics? ——->No rush though I need your touch
I won’t rush your heart
Until you feel on solid ground
Until your strength is found, girl

I’ll fill those canyons in your soul
Like a river lead you home
And I’ll walk a step behind
In the shadows so you shine
Just ask it will be done
And I will prove my love
Until you’re sure that I’m “the one”

Somebody else was here before
He treated you unkind
And broken wings need time to heal
Before a heart can fly, girl

I see a wild future ahead of me. The certainty I feel comes from sharing a beautiful Home with a great man. The shaky parts will fall into place when the time is right.

I need more patience in life and with myself. This is always been the hardest concept for me. I feel like I’m always about to run out of time, out of life, and things I want, I want them NOW.

I want more harmony with how I treat myself. I want to reach for things that will help me care for myself instead of wanting to break myself further.

I pretend that I can see how our someday wedding day will be and look and feel. The look on his face when he sees me for the first time, taking his last name, binding with his family, becoming a family together.

I feel anxious today. My first impulse is to close myself in, tight, and isolate myself from others.

I touch everyone that I love with eagerness. I hug a little too tight and kiss a little too long. I hunger for the comfort that comes from touch.

I worry about losing Michael, about losing my Mom, about not getting Enough Time.

I cry over the goodness of people, of seeing the light in other people, of seeing humanity continue to thrive even in the darkest corners.

I understand how it feels to forgive other people, but haven’t quite gotten the concept of forgiving myself.

I say far too much and speak too quickly when I’m excited.

I dream of tiny feet, his eyes, my light-heartedness, his laugh, and my precociousness wrapped into a tiny person, surrounded by love.

I try to ease the loads of other people, to find connection to them and with them, to touch lives like mine has been touched.

I am doing, and dreaming, and trying my best every single day. And that is enough.

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