A Love Story of Sorts

In keeping with the theme this week, I’ll offer up a love story of sorts.

Okay, it’s not really a “love story”, in the traditional sense. But it is a story, and it does involve love.

In the romantic sense, love has proven itself to be a fickle companion. I’ve lost myself in it and also found myself. I’ve sworn it off completely, and then blindly plunged back in. I’ve felt it with a force as powerful as breath, and now find myself wondering if it even exists.

But I’m a romantic and seem to be incapable of giving up on it completely.

So that brings me to Valentine’s Day. I admittedly get seduced by it all: a day dedicated solely to celebrating the person I love and being spoiled by the person who loves me. It’s a subject I believe worthy of its own holiday.

But I’m also acutely aware that this day can place loneliness and heartbreak at center stage, making the absence of the person we love as consuming as their presence used to be liberating.

That’s the side of it I was on, once again. There was no lover to spoil. And besides the sweet guy at the coffee shop, I wasn’t the object of anyone’s affection. (okay, that didn’t prove to be entirely true, but we’ll stick to the subject at hand.)

All to say, I expected to be in the same place I was last year: front and center.

I am, in fact, front and center, but not in the same place.

It feels more like equilibrium.

There was no huge revelation that occurred. I didn’t even realize anything had changed until the sweet boy at the coffee shop gave me a chocolate heart. It made me happy. And I didn’t want it to be from anyone else. And I was completely content with the fact that I had the whole day to myself. And there wasn’t anyone I was missing (not entirely true, either. I miss Biscuit terribly but “subject at hand”.)

It seems I unknowingly declared a truce.

Despite the fact that I desperately wanted to move on, I kept looking back. I’ve recycled everything possible- memories, relationships, behaviors- all of which kept taking me back to the exact same place I was before…which was the last place I wanted to be.

This isn’t to say that my mind has completely stopped reminding me of what’s lurking beneath the surface. But I finally understand its tactics. I can catch it now, reel it in and release what has clearly been sustaining my demons all along.

Okay, confession.

There is this one last relationship I’m trying to rekindle. It’s risky to be sure. It was extremely messy before and full-on destructive when we parted ways. But I really do believe it will be different this time.

I think she’s finally realized she had something special that she came really close to losing.



And the Nominees Are…



To be honest, I don’t know much about this, other than it’s a vehicle to give accolades to our fellow writers.

So, thank you very much, LemonZest, for nominating me.

Now it’s my turn to celebrate some of the writers I’ve come to love- those who have inspired me by having the courage to open their hearts, tell their stories, and share their insights with talent and grace…and/or just make me laugh.

Oh, and I should confess, I’m not following the rules exactly (shocking, I know). I chose a select few because I wanted to showcase why I chose them. So this list doesn’t include all my favorites, but since we tend to run to in tight circles, I know the rest of the names of writers I love and admire will quickly surface.

So, my nominees are, in no particular order:

  1. The Incurable Dreamer, for her gift of always making me laugh out loud while tears are simultaneously streaming down my face. Her words effortlessly express her humor, huge heart and uplifting perspectives…always with a solid dose of hutzpa to keep things interesting. “I silently wept. Not from sadness but happiness experienced in its purest form. The kind of happiness that makes you see colour for the first time, that ignites your soul and makes you not only feel like you can fly but that you already are.”  My Surgeon thinks I’m a Whore
  2. Flowering Ink, for the way her words flow, inspire and reveal all the layers, textures and depth of her strength and character. “For me, poetry is the ultimate expression and exercise of language. It is the bones, the blood and the heart, uncovered and untethered.” Stretching my Voice
  3. Desertcurmudgeon, the unassuming prophet, who always leaves me in awe of his sheer brilliance, huge heart and capacity to express his insights with wit, “Be exhaustive, be brave. Become the warrior this sad and scary world so desperately needs. In the depths of our unconfused minds…We’ll realize that we create our own reality and that everyone we meet in this place is just us with a different temporary mask. That’s where empathy begins. That’s where true, indestructible love resides. Everything will be okay.  It can’t be otherwise.Warrior Mind
  4. Brandenwulf, for never ceasing to amaze me with what he can do with words, always rising effortlessly from the page and enchanting me with their richness and texture.  Morning Kiss                                                                                                                 “Little by little it comes;
    Building drip to falling drop.
    Tiny explosions shatter, rippling
    Into a thousand points of their self.”
  5. My Dang Blog, for always making me giggle and feel more at peace with my OCD tendencies and quirky idiosyncrasies. Please know, I say this with the utmost reverence, because these characteristics just make her more colorful and interesting…plus, she’s charming, witty and should seriously consider giving up her day job and pursue stand-up.                                                                                                “She kept using the good tea towel, you know, the one that’s for show…There was another tea towel, a plainer one, that was close to the stove and sink, and simply screamed out, “Use ME!”…I would come back after a weekend at home to find it hanging all crumply and stained. Why didn’t you just tell her, you ask? Because that would be the most ridiculous conversation in the world, like “Can you not use this tea towel? It’s for show.” Driverless Cars, the ‘Good’ tea towel
  6. Tom Being Tom, for writing in a way that makes me feel like I’ve always known him, and at the same time, like I’m listening to an old soul from another time and space… “I will chase the reality and the fantasy of life. I will be broad and bold; utterly complete and evolving still.”: We are Not but One Thing
  7. Writing to Freedom, for his eye for beauty and talent for capturing it with his captivating photos and words. Peace Prevails (Note: Brad’s site is award free, but this is more about sharing his gifts.)

I’m supposed to share 7 things about myself. So, here goes:

  1. I am determined to save the elephants and gorillas and pangolins and sea turtles…(this list continues, but your time is precious.)
  2. I move around a lot.
  3. I like good coffee, kale, beer, chocolate, avocados and whipped cream.
  4. I hung out with Jane Goodall for a day. (okay, it wasn’t just me, and I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t recognize me if I was standing in front of her, but still…)
  5. Paris feeds my soul, Sevilla awakens it.
  6. You will never hear me say the words ‘I’ and ‘baked ‘ in the same sentence (talking pastries here, people).
  7. I believe in magic.