That kind of morning. This morning shift gets rough by thd end of the week and it’s only hump day.
Time does wonders.
They say time can heal a broken heart. Time can soothe the pain of losing a loved one. Time allows us to have second and third chances at making right the mistakes we finding ourselves claiming. But sometimes time makes us forget. It repeats again and again and causes our brains to curse the routine.
I have been trapped in my own routine. One of knowing I have found the person I love and taking advantage of every moment as if her love is not worth fighting for.
Love is always worth fighting for- even once you obtain it.
She always told me to fight for what matters and for a year or so, I fought hard for her. I persisted through her fear and doubt of having feelings for another woman. I would strive through an on and off cycle of silly decisions and seeking the wrong companions to replace the only person I truly wanted.
I almost lost her to my stupidity several times. Some days I feel that I will lose her. She will go and I will have lost one of the two most important people in my life.
You fight for the things that matter. And when you succeed in that battle, you continue to fight in other ways to keep those things that mean the most. Because you never give up on what you’re passionate about.
Funny how it takes a moment in time. A glimpse into someone else’s life, although fictional, and see the troubles in yourself.
I am not perfect. I am not special. My love story, no matter how great and spectacular it may seem to me, still takes work and time.
I choose to fight.
I may make mistakes starting out- trying to reclaim that fight that once so easily came to me. But I know it’s there- I feel it when I stop, take a breath, and stop consuming myself with busy thoughts. I still see her on that cool March night. Her smile in the dark, only lit by the porch light of my home. I still feel those butterflies inside- that feeling of flying both so terrifying and exciting. And the way she held me close before softly pressing her lips against mine.
I have said I would remember moments for the rest of my life. This has been the clearest memory in my nearly twenty five years of life. I remember that night and my heart races and threatens to fly right out of my chest.
Why have I let myself become dull in my love? Why do I not understand every touch and kiss and sweet word is still worth cherishing and making count?
I want that night back. I want that moment of time that freezes just for us. I want my love to be what it once was and so I must take that step, and as many more as is needed.
And I hope time will be on my side.
He shook my hand I stuttered, glancing down at the book in my hand.
“Could you sign my book?”
He takes a step back and reaches into the pocket of his burgandy robe that looks so soft you just want to touch it- like that white furry cat your grandmother owned that always swatted at you when you invaded its bubble. He pulls out a pen and takes my book. Carefully, he flips to the title page and pens my name at the top and signs his on the bottom.
Meeting my favorite author brought out the giddy schoolgirl in me. From the moment he walked by us as we stood in line waiting to check in until when he pulled me into an oddly comfortable hug for our picture, I was equal amounts of anxious and excited. So much at one at one point I could have probably exploded into rainbows and sunshine.
I have never gone to an author event but I feel l Iike if I am ever to go to one for another author, I will find myself disappointed. Chuck Palahniuk definitely set a high standard. I knew it would be a fun night when he and his assistant began chucking bags of candy at people and when someone got pegged with one, he quickly commented, “Those bags of candy corn hurt like a motherfucker.”
From beginning to end, I was sucked in. The stories he read and shared had the wit and disturbingly fascinating details I have always admired in his writing. He made it a fun time for everyone and handed out some pretty badass prizes. I got an arm- five lucky people got this beautifully bound copy of Fight Club.
I look forward to going to as many of his events in the future that I can. I’m glad I can finally say I met my favorite author and one of the people responsible for my love of writing to grow to new and different levels.
I get to go see my favorite author of all time- Chuck Palahniuk. He’s rolling into San Diego tomorrow night and I will be there wearing my Nightmare Before Christmas pajama pants and taking lots of videos and photos. Crossing my fingers for a picture with him but it’s okay if it doesn’t happen.
I’m super excited and I’m sure you will hear all about it tomorrow night or Thursday morning.
This sounds super delicious- I think I’ll have to make one of my own. : )
Another season, another reason to bake! For those of us on the East Coast, there’s a crispness in the air and the foliage is vibrant. I absolutely love this time of year and yearn for foods that include cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, ginger, and clove. Nothing says fall like these spices do! And, just like other spices, these holiday ones contain those super-healing properties too; an additional reason to savor them.
For this post, I’ve decided to share a recipe that strays from the traditional, but is a nice change. I think you’re really going to enjoy it. Before we get to that, let’s talk farmers markets. I’m a big fan of utilizing locally grown produce and herbs. During the fall you’ll easily find locally sourced honey and maple syrup and you can visit your local orchard and pick your own apples and pumpkins. Did you know that pumpkin is not…
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The world is changing everyday. I never thought I would live to see the day same-sex marriage would be legally where I’m from. Although gays and lesbians in Oklahoma will still face challenges and ignorance, it is nice to
know the right is ours legally.
Now let’s get equality in the rest of the states.