One Year in the Life.

Today would have been a grand milestone. But no need to let the sentiments and nostalgia go to waste. One year ago a beautiful thing happened. We shared almost everything with each other. Life has a way of pressing fast forward and before you know it, here we are. Separate. Happy (I hope you are). I fell in love with my best friend a year ago. And screwed everything up.
I don't know if you're thinking about me today at all. But I'll be thinking about you. Not with the disdain I've felt occasionally. But with the hindsight to see our mistakes and still enjoy the good times. That time we went to the Franklin Institute (and couldn't even really enjoy the exhibits by how wrapped up in each other we were). Our silly telescopic adventure and chocolate covered strawberries. Your mom making me a stocking for Christmas and the lilac sweater I still wear. A birthday cake all to myself. Snuggling into your shoulder and being bashful when I had no secrets to keep from you. Our crying and shouting and roundabout debating fights. The end of a beautiful thing. The miles between us. Not knowing how you're doing....it's a pulsing ache.
Sometimes the answer to our prayers is No. I wish I had understood that earlier, sooner. We shouldn't have been so intimate. We shouldn't have done a lot. But we can't just erase those things, because we lived them. We can, however, transform them into lessons, beauty from pain, love, memories, and hopes for the future.
I'm spending today in a black dress. Writing papers, reading biographies, and occasionally looking through old photos, listening to Ke$ha sing The Harold Song, Katy Perry's The One That Got Away, and my melancholy Jonsi Pandora station. It's raining here on the mountain, but warm enough not to wear a coat. It's quite nice.
Bevin asked me yesterday what my 65 year old self would say to me today looking back. Beyond being a pessimistic crone, I think she'd have a twinkle in her eye. A knowledge of  the good of a thing is necessary to mourn the loss. So I think she'd tell me to be able to define the good and bad, but know that they aren't separate or defining. One break up or fight doesn't mean that we had a "bad relationship". Quite the contrary, we had a relationship and it had some AMAZING times, and some sad times too. It's like the fireflies on my wall. There are bright circles amidst the greys. Happy times among the just being, and the depths of dark.

All said, I love you.
I'm always gonna.
Even if love is morphing and changing. Even if you never talk to me again. Even if you marry a total babe and I live like Amy Carmichael, Amma.
It's all life.

I'm learning what single is again. But this time it's different. I don't feel rushed to find a guy to tell me I'm beautiful. I don't need to be romanced and kissed to know I am worth something. For I am worth everything to him who died to save me. I am beautiful and worthy in His eyes. and THAT is what love really truly means.