Memories of a Love

She was heart-breakingly sweet.

When she spoke of music, her eyes would light up and smile secretly to herself. She was kind-hearted, in ways that I could never explain…but she just knew how to be nice. What I loved most of about her was that she had a secret dark side, hidden so well by smiles and creativity.

She would often do something differently, just because she thought it was funny. I think she did it to scream out in defiance – rejecting a lifestyle of courteous nods and weighted words. She was rebellious in the sweetest way, and I loved her for it.

We wrote notes to each other, and exchanged them over breaks. We were a teenage couple to be admired, quirky in our own special way – awkwardly holding hands and laughing because we just didn’t give a damn. (Not that we swore back then.)

I wasn’t a writer when I met her.

When I think of our relationship, I wish I was. I wish I could have details on all sweet moments and thoughts we shared, lined up in the page where I could count and savour them. I guess it is true that writers experience everything at least twice. As I write this to you, more and more details are coming back to me. She really was something…something.

Today marks my hundredth entry.

I don’t really know how to mark this occasion. I don’t really like celebrating this kind of stuff. But I do owe Kool Aid a mention. She awarded me with a Kreativ Blogger Award quite awhile ago – but I forgot to make mention of it. So, to make up for it, I want you to go over to her site and leave her a nice comment.

So here is entry #100. As one final thought, I want you to think of your favourite line or entry of mine – and leave it in the comments below.

Oh, and you guys are fantastic. I read your comments every day like they are my affirmations. So here is to another full year together.

Love you all!

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