The Gift of Love

It’s that special day, Valentine’s Day! For many, the day represents love. For others, it’s just another day that’s true meaning has been sapped up and spit out by commercialization. I believe it’s a little of both. Mostly, it’s just another day.

I feel like I am much changed from the person who gave up her virginity on this day twenty-one years ago. The emotions now removed from the experience, I look back at the memory of who I was. Fast forward twenty-one years, and I’m finally letting go of a unique but unappreciative and undeserving love (aren’t they all?!) from my past. I’m allowing life’s events to wash over me. I take a calming few deep breaths, to be human. This is me. Continue reading “The Gift of Love”

For My Own Experience Skews My Perspective

In truth, I borrowed the title of my post from the text of the book I’m currently reading. I’m a sucker for Grace Burrowes’ novels. Sometimes in life, we can’t get over but we must try to move past situations and people. As I drove to Milledgeville through the torrential rainstorm yesterday, I took an almost literal trip down memory lane. I admit that there were moments where I was driving from muscle memory. The dreariness of the day only further hampered my mood. Sure, I was going to see my BFF in person for the first time in six years, but before that, I had an additional journey that I had to make.

When I drive through Eatonton on my way to Milledgeville (because I still have my car serviced where I purchased it), I make it a point to remember the first home I purchased, everything that happened in my life during my years there, what has changed since then. However, I never drive to see it in its present state, I have to physically avoid the assured pang that I would feel by seeing my first home in any other state than I left it in. Alas, my roaring twenties through my mid-thirties were difficult. I devoted most of my life and time to a job and career that I walked away from and sold the home that I thought I may have lived in forever. I cared for a handful of people that produced a lifetime of pain. There remains an uneasiness when I go back. Fortunately, it’s not a trip that I have to take often. Continue reading “For My Own Experience Skews My Perspective”