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January 31 - February 12, 2018
“You’re a kaleidoscope. You change every time I look away.”
“I know things have to change, but … I can’t lose you. I don’t think I get another one like you.”
I read the same paragraph about sixty straight times, but I still had no idea what I was reading.
“Would you rather be great at something you like, or just okay at something you love?”
Papa says it’s not an easy thing to ask a child to believe in what they can’t see; he says it’s its own magic. He says that if you have that magic inside you, you should protect it all your life and never let it go, because once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.
It’s snowing, of course. There’s always snow on the ground here. It makes everything look diamond dusted. The thing about snow is, it’s very quiet.
“I love this town. I love its art deco architecture and its never-ending music festivals. Its overly friendly locals. But … there’s no future for me here. No career.
“I’ve always felt lucky to live someplace where snow is rare, you know? It’s the rareness that makes it so special.”
He says presents aren’t important, but I think they are—not because of how much they cost, but for the opportunity they provide to say
I am worried about being in love, because it involves asking so much. I am worried that my life will never fit into his. That I will never know him. That he will never know me. That we get to hear the stories, but never get to hear the full truth.
“You were wrong. You are magic. But people don’t need to remember how it felt to be happy and safe in the past. They need to have hope that they can get there again in the future. And sometimes the only thing to make that happen is, say, enough money to get away.”
But his eyes follow me everywhere, and we keep sharing smiles that feel like secrets.
“If you just want to go away then any ticket will get you there.”
I sang because that is what I do when I am happy and when I’m sad. I sang because it is who I am when I am being the best possible version of me. I sang because I wasn’t alone as I held Aunt Mary’s hand.
“Sweetheart, when you lose someone, you lose a little bit of yourself, too.”
“And that missing piece? Sometimes you have to lose the rest of yourself to find it.
“I will free you, and I will lift you. I will learn a thousand ways to make you laugh. Your smiles will be the honey in my mead, your enchantment my delight.”
