I have been having the most nostalgic mornings. I feel happier and safer than I have in a very long time. But it will forever blow my mind the many lives I have lived in 27 short years. Long years. Tired years and hard years. Wonderful years. I will rant forever about the chapters in our books and how hard they are to read and how interesting they are to highlight. How one chapter or maybe three can feel so relevant - almost a decade later. How much I used to love the border of Georgia and how I will forever be in lust with it. I can still SMELL it. I re read old message threads and flashback to what seems like yesterday. It’s been almost ten years. Oof.
I feel like the same little girl. And I also feel like a completely new woman. Growing up is just that, I guess. But I wonder if I will always feel the things that I feel. So deeply and truly. If I will always remember the relationships and the times and the moments even subtle. It’s just the way I’m wired. I live to feel and ache and wish - always have. I am a constantly moving piece of art that has splashed my colors on so many chapters of so many books. And I smile. And nod. And remember. And continue.
Here’s to more writing.
