I know you exist. Somewhere out in this mad city or this crazy country or this beautifully ridiculous world, I know you exist. You’ve been walking on this planet, doing things and making things and being things that mean something to you. I know you’re working. I know you wake up every morning and go to sleep every night and in those hours, minutes, and seconds in between, you make hundreds of decisions that have yet to lead you to me. Your family and friends have the privilege of talking to you daily. They’ve heard your laugh and felt your embrace. They know your voice when you speak and they have memories that date back to years I’ve never known you. There are people who know your favorite dish, how you take your whiskey and what team you cheer for on Sundays at the pub near your apartment on some street in some place in some city. There are people who love you because you are already so wonderful.Call me crazy – which I know you will, in an endearing way, of course – but I already can feel your heart. I know it’s good. It must be to put up with an overly-romantic sap like me. I know it’s full of things that I need and full of things I don’t even know I need yet. I know there will be a day when all those thoughts we’ve had will seem meaningless and obsolete, just visions of how we thought our lives would turn out, in comparison to how they actually turn out. There will be a day when we realize nothing we ever envisioned was quite as beautiful as that moment when we said yes, yes, yes to love. The path may be broken and scattered the directions unclear and unsettling, but the love, the fever, the fire – it’s just getting started. I know we will meet. Not today. Probably not tomorrow. Or next month. Maybe not even next year. But we will meet my love.
I am participating in Half Marathon Blogging Challenge with Blogchatter.
I write a lot, which keeps me off the streets and out of trouble. There is always something to write about, always a new story to craft. Not writing, for me, is like trying to hold back a sneeze. Learning to write was the most powerful influence in my life. I can still remember the awe I felt when I realized I could put real words onto paper and tell out a story. From that first ‘a-ha’ moment I knew I wanted to write.
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