I walked aboard an airplane today and carried with me a bag filled with anticipation, fear, excitement and hope. I shoved my great expectation into a quart-sized plastic bag and watched it zip through the metal detectors unnoticed.
I threw caution to the wind, followed my own crazy advice and accepted an offer.
We’ve been talking on the phone almost daily for months and months, trying in earnest to tell the stories of our lives. (Have you tried to put 30 years of living in a short story? It’s not easy.) Our discussions flow easily and comfortably and are sprinkled with laughter, sympathy, heartbreak, and surprise.
We supplement these conversations with emails, finding that some thoughts are easier conveyed when you pretend that no one is on the other end readying a response, or looking into your eyes. And throughout it all – throughout this voyage of re-acquaintance, I have felt a stirring in my heart. An awakening, a fire slowly beginning to burn. This warmth, this wonder and amazement have given me another kind of courage.
As I sit here on a plane I realize that I am just a girl going to visit a boy. But my heart is full of hope. I feel butterflies in my stomach that I never thought I’d feel again. I realize that I need to live each day, accept each challenge and bet on each hand that I feel might be a winner. I lean against the window facing the sun as it’s warmth shines upon my face, and I smile.
Life is good today, my friends. Life is good.
(And if I don't live each day to the fullest, then I am nothing but a hypocrite. And that is that.)