i send my SOS to the world- this is my message in a bottle. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Measure In Love
I don't know why greeting cards from people who love me made me tear up, why words were more sincere, more true then they had been in the years past. Why each smile and each friendship becomes more poignant, somehow more audible amongst those who share my life. There was just something a little bit more touching about each moment, each person who came to celebrate the day with me, or who called from miles away, or who dropped by to spend time with me. Especially those who simply remembered when I so easily tend to forget things of this nature, or who gave me a gift full of thought and intention, things I really needed or wanted, but that mainly reflected that you know me. At any rate, all of these little things moved me a way that had eluded me in before. Is it because my life is about to change? Or is it because I know that it's always been changing, evolving and yet these...people, whose love I am continually humbled by in a way I don't deserve- love me despite those changes? So, when the day was over, after I had teared up at words that my dad had written to me, words of appreciation to his adult daughter, already looking back upon a childhood spent and over... I recieved a book from one of my oldest friends, far away from me. A journal, full of quotes, words that had passed in the entire span of a friendship that has lasted what feels like my whole life. Some were famous quotes, some more obscure, some were even words that had been spoken between us that upon revisiting touched places that I had long forgotten. I don't know what it was- the fact that I was loved, each and every syllable echoing something...but I started to cry. And not even a simple tear or two- but really, the crux of the warmth of being so loved overwhelming me perhaps, mingled in with abject fear at the future and of the year. I came to a page in the middle, to a quote that read, "If you never leave, you'll miss out. If you leave and realize you're not missing anything, you can always go back." And I stopped, closed the book to save it from the mingled tears of mascara lest I mar the thick creamy pages of the book. And I was full- of contradictory emotions, but mostly with the knowledge that there are people who really know me. Past what I say, or what I do, but understand me, what I need, who I've been and who I intend to become. There is unspoken security there, that in whatever patterns of my life I will traverse, there is somewhere that is a home, that I can return to no matter what. I don't know what I did to deserve this- this friendship. God knows I don't deserve it, but in a way, maybe He knows how acutely I need it. 7:09 p.m. - Sunday, Oct. 24, 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||