Monthly Archives: August 2012

Precious purchase

I bought myself two new journals—yep two. For the price of one. You’d of thought I just purchased a whole new set of furniture for my house they way I walked out of Staples with my precious new journals tucked under my arm. My footsteps were light, my eyes were twinkling I am sure. Couldn’t wait to get them home and just look at them resting on my desk.

I felt doubly good because they are called Sustainable Earth, made from sugar cane and very, very Eco friendly. No trees were sacrificed so I can write my thoughts and feelings down. And there is this tiny little French phrase “a relage etroit”, mysterious and almost like a sexy rendezvous in some smokey cage off the Montmartre. What it means is college ruled. Not quite so romantic. Sounds so much more mysterious in French.

The pages have a soft beige-brown for the line color, not the blue of the school kind. It feels elevated to write down things on those light brown lines; they can’t just be ordinary written on such elegant of a page. Those pages that beckon and invite me to curl up in my comfortable red chair with a dog on either side of the foot stool and just write. Write until the words are done coming out of the pen. Write until the mind is serenely quiet with every fleeting and wispy thought tucked into its sentence and placed in this inviting, open journal.

The promise in these small, only 9in. by 6 in., books is bigger even than the universe can hold. It is the promise of the next story, the next essay, the next thought, the next blog, the next idea to sweep the world.

Adieu, I must write..

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Oh, how unsettling is this thing called love…….

I find the times like these the hardest, the ones where it seems the whole world is off doing such fine and interesting and wonderful mysterious things, these are the hardest to get through without becoming the weepy, obnoxious sort of crazy-woman who just cannot cope with alone-ness. It is a part of being engaged with the heart I guess. Love is definitely sacrifice. Anyone who doesn’t believe that has never in their life been in love.

It is the smallest stuff that can trip one up. Stuff like moving a object and finding a small piece of the universe that plunges you right into the emptiness that you have been doing your best to get around for days. Being twenty-seven hundred miles away is the worst possible thing that can happen to two people who love each other; with the exception of those who are deployed which is so very much worse in the knowing the person you love with your whole heart is in grave danger. I salute the wives, husbands, girlfriends and boyfriends not to mention the Moms, Dads and all the brothers and sisters that spend their days pushing worry and fear and terror of losing them to back of their mind with the strength of Goliath.

I am not so sure I have even an ounce of their strength. My love is here, in the U.S. not in mortal danger, well not by bullets anyway, and I get to talk to him everyday. I have my own fears to deal with. The fear of not being quite enough for him. The fear of being too far away, too much of a distance between us that becomes more than miles. The fear that his “I love you” as I ran to get through TSA at the airport, his parting gift to me, will fad with distance. If I am not there to remind him, if he does not have me in front of him physically, will he remember me?

When sanity returns, I think to myself that he must be so weary of my emotional storms. I do not want him to think that is all there is here in my heart. There is so much more, so much more of me to give, so much more of happiness, of joy, of living for us to do. I am in this maelstrom of emotion because my heart has never been engaged in the center of loving like this before. I am flying blind in a place I have never been to before. It is like my life has been a dress rehearsal before this. Now that the real thing is here I have forgotten my lines, am blinded by the footlights and do not even know where my spot is to stand.

All I want is a chance. All we need is the space to have that chance. It doesn’t even matter where, the location is just stage blocking, the real part of this is between the two of us. The two of us to become one, the two of us to be “us”. We have a finite number of days in this glorious world, I only ask for a chance for he and I to make our way together through it.

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