I never know what to write here. To me, anything worth writing about comes from a place of great anger and passion. I still possess the latter, don't get me wrong, but I'm not angry anymore about anything. It's sad and cliche to say it's because I met someone. But. Well. I met someone. When I was in first grade the teacher had all the students sit in a circle and she went around asking each of us what we wanted to be when we grew up.
Most people gave stock answers. I want to be a fireman. A policeman. A ballerina. When it was my turn she asked me the question and I stopped to think about it for a minute. Now, even by an early age I had seen a lot of movies. Much more than the average kid, at any rate. And most of the films had a common thread that seemed like the be all and end all to what life was really all about. At least, it seemed perfectly logical to a seven year old. So I looked at my teacher and I said that when I grew up I wanted to be in love. Pretty naive, huh? I admit it. But I also never forgot it. Never forgot how the other kids laughed, for sure. At that age I couldn't possibly have any idea what love was. I can't say that I'm sure now. What I do know is that from almost the moment I met her face to face I was completey at ease. That every time we're together a sense of calm comes over me the likes of which I have never before experienced. That when we're together I feel that I am capable of anything. That I don't have anything to hide and whatever I say or do will be excepted at face value. That I no longer feel so damned alone in the world. And when we're curled up in bed watching an old foreign movie or a documentary I never feel so safe or secure or loved. So whatever it was I thought that love was in the first grade that captivated me so, whatever I thought about it all the days before this one, if what we're sharing isn't love then I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist.
Things I made this weekend:
- Leek And Bean Cassoulet With Biscuits
- Vegan Gingerbread Pancakes
- Crispy Chinese Salt & Pepper Tofu, Baby Bok Choy, Steamed Jasmine Rice
- Vegan Cheesecake (with Strawberry Sauce Topping)
- Lots of sweet, sweet love.
Yeah yeah, I know. My cold black heart has melted. Get over it.
Transmission ends.
Most people gave stock answers. I want to be a fireman. A policeman. A ballerina. When it was my turn she asked me the question and I stopped to think about it for a minute. Now, even by an early age I had seen a lot of movies. Much more than the average kid, at any rate. And most of the films had a common thread that seemed like the be all and end all to what life was really all about. At least, it seemed perfectly logical to a seven year old. So I looked at my teacher and I said that when I grew up I wanted to be in love. Pretty naive, huh? I admit it. But I also never forgot it. Never forgot how the other kids laughed, for sure. At that age I couldn't possibly have any idea what love was. I can't say that I'm sure now. What I do know is that from almost the moment I met her face to face I was completey at ease. That every time we're together a sense of calm comes over me the likes of which I have never before experienced. That when we're together I feel that I am capable of anything. That I don't have anything to hide and whatever I say or do will be excepted at face value. That I no longer feel so damned alone in the world. And when we're curled up in bed watching an old foreign movie or a documentary I never feel so safe or secure or loved. So whatever it was I thought that love was in the first grade that captivated me so, whatever I thought about it all the days before this one, if what we're sharing isn't love then I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist.
Things I made this weekend:
- Leek And Bean Cassoulet With Biscuits
- Vegan Gingerbread Pancakes
- Crispy Chinese Salt & Pepper Tofu, Baby Bok Choy, Steamed Jasmine Rice
- Vegan Cheesecake (with Strawberry Sauce Topping)
- Lots of sweet, sweet love.
Yeah yeah, I know. My cold black heart has melted. Get over it.
Transmission ends.
1 comment:
there's this guy I know who thinks love is a huge weathered boulder.
but really it's small enough to get stuck in your shoe. How'd that get in there?
it's easy to mistake the two because they're both mysteries.
right?
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