The Dirty Work of Letting Go


I’m really bad about tossing stuff out. I tend to hold onto certain things a bit longer than necessary. First they get set into a corner. After several months that pile gets moved to the garage, and eventually gets sold, given to good will or trashed. I don’t know why I do it this way. It for me is the process of letting go.
Letting go is hard. It just is. For some people more than others. And we are sometimes incapable of making clean breaks. But we keep heading in the right direction and we eventually get there.

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Fog


I dated a little after Martin, but couldn’t see myself in love after that. I thought maybe I was broken and would never love again. I thought I had gotten jaded and stopped believing in love. I got mad at every romantic comedy. I scoffed at all love stories no matter what. I certainly wasn’t going to let myself fall so easily next time…not into that scary place.

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Forgetting to Remember


At our restaurant, Harry and I talked and talked and talked. We laughed, we held hands. I told him about my job. He talked about the Weimar Republic, Wilson’s Fourteen Points and I ate it up and smiled. We talked about us and how great it was to be this relaxed with someone. He and I just click. During a chat yesterday we were discussing how well we were clicking….He said, “Our friendship is the easy part… wait.. our attraction is the easy part.. um but… our conversation is the easy part.. Hell, what’s the hard part?”

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Crunch Time


When I walked through the door home from church, everything changed. I felt like someone changed the channel. My romantic comedy was replaced with a drama. One of those after school specials with stressed out teenagers who take all their frustrations out on their mom cause she is an easier target than the volleyball coach that hasn’t played you in three games. An easier target than a band teacher who has practically forced you to be in three performances outside of your regular class load despite two performance festivals, and finals looming.

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Dating Smart


Harry and I can float from discussing his genealogy and favorite historical periods, to the psychological concept of gas lighting, to the process of website development and software installation, to the fact that wine bottle sizes are named after biblical kings (they are look it up.) And it’s not like we’re trying to impress each other. It’s just where the conversation natural goes. And in between all that is emotional support, friendship, and a little flirting to round everything out. I’m in heaven. And I think he’s in heaven.

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The Next Day


Wow. I didn’t need the flowers to say wow but wow. I love getting flowers. And it’s not just that they’re pretty. He had to drive 15 miles out of his way and went to three stores looking for decent flowers at 1 or 2 in the morning before he started work. He did that for me. It’s the effort that blows me away. And he bought the orchids and wasn’t satisfied so he kept looking and found the yellow roses and gave me both!

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Overflowing


I thank God for the ebb and flow of life. The dark times help us appreciate the good. It’s like living in Washington state as opposed to California. In Washington a sunny day warrants cutting school or work, rolling up your pant legs and braving 50 degree lake water. People come out of hibernation from their homes and have actual conversations with their neighbors. All those gray days make the sunny ones so much better. But in California we take the good for granted and we act like we’re all going to melt if we get a little rain like it’s the end of the world. We are lightweights.

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