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”
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”