Feel love.

"Being tender and open is beautiful. As a woman I feel continually shhh'ed. Too sensitive. Too mushy. Too wishy washy. Blah Blah. Don't let someone steal your tenderness. Don't allow the coldness of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart. Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things. Whether it is a song, a stranger, a mountain, a raindrop, a tea kettle, an article, a sentence, a footstep, feel it all-look around you. All of this is for you. Take it and have gratitude. Give it and feel love."
-Zooey Deschanel

This woman speaks the inner works of my heart.

TIime will tell.

I'm laying in bed. Have had writer's block for a good hour... and I have no idea why I put so much effort into finding a "topic" to write about when I have all of these thoughts running through my head. I mean, isn't the point of writing to say what you can't physically express?

I've never been one for organized thoughts and planning.

It's crazy how something you never gave a second thought to becomes the entirety of every silence. 

I have always been content being alone. Especially after I found out about Amelia. 

Independence has always played a monumental role in my being. I love being self-sufficient... calling all the shots in my world. I love knowing that I can pick up and take off at a moment's notice, enjoy life as it comes and make my days, exactly, what I want them to be. Alone.

So what changed? 

The second I found out I was harboring a beautiful life, my world changed in entirety. Every goal, thought, habit, strength, weakness, belief ... was challenged. Suddenly, I find myself more domestic than I had ever imagined. Every thought, every action, is centered around my family. I want to clean and cook, I want to be proactive in the world of motherhood and help other women, I want to hold every baby I see and observe every child I cross paths with. This is all so foreign to me.

I have no desire to be involved with majority of my friends, or partake in any of the activities I once found almost euphoric. Majority of that life was based on pure ... bullshit. Maybe life has just finally been put into perspective.

As I lay here alone, I know something is missing. Something that I haven't needed, or wanted, for a long time. Someone beside me. Now is harder than ever to start dating again, and Im sure it won't happen for me for quite some time, but when it does ..... if it does .... what happens? 

I am a completely different person and I am looking for someone so foreign to my prior ideals. I have a family now, and I am not only carrying around my own standards, but I am packing on ten fold for miss A. He's got to be something beyond spectacular. 

I know that I am truthfully ready to find God's match for me. Im excited to see my little family grow and share all of those little moments with someone who appreciates them and cherishes them as much as I do. I want a partner, a lover, a friend ... an equal, a future, a husband.

fate.

     It's interesting how people come back into your life, unexpectedly, stronger than ever before. Is it coincidence? OR did the universe recognize that this is what is truly meant to me, it was just waiting for the right time to reintroduce you to your destiny?
     I believe that the right people fall into our lives at the wrong time, making them the wrong people. But, if they are truly monumental to your personal growth and life journey, they will find their way back home.
     Always have faith that what should be, will be.

"...and as it is written, so it mote be."

   
     

come in.

     For years, I have loved writing my life out on paper. I have journal after journal, each pertaining to a particular place in my life. Some of them are more like daily itinerary's while others are the deepest most inner-workings of my mind and heart. I suppose there is no right way to journal.
     I find that I regret every memory I didn't physically write down. I'm not sure if it is because reading them "jogs" my memory and takes me back to a place I had forgotten, or if it is the instant satisfaction of seeing my hand write out each detail. I think it's absolutely romantic to read someones handwritten thoughts. It takes you to that place, that moment that was so important to their being, almost hearing their voice speak the words as you read them. You can touch the pages that they touched and instantly, you can feel their energy come through those pages as strongly as if it were your own. Tell me another way to really feel and understand someone. I think that takes the cake.
     Even tho I would much rather write all of these occurrences in leather-bound books with thick aromatic pages, I've found it hard to actually write as much as I would like in the realm of motherhood. And while I have little time to write, blogging on the go, may just be my best option.
     So here it goes. My thoughts are very .... eclectic, with no rhyme or reason. There is no preparation, no well thought-out ideas to build on. Just my gypsy soul spilling out into a seemingly mad smorgasbord of thoughts.

"The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible."  ~Vladimir Nabakov