stopping me from carving our initials into a tree
whispering everything that grows already knows who we are
The stretch of 2019 stands before me, the mouth of a cave. It is a year of anticipation, of hope for travel and humility. I started my look back, my rewind, on 2018 in my journal with this line: it was a weird year, neither wholly bad nor wholly good. I think of that line now and it occurs to me that is it not, in fact, an accurate assumption: 2018 was mostly good, a sum of 365 days divided into achievements and new starts, with a handful of “meh” days. And that’s okay. Continue reading
“Is it so unforgivable that I should wish to marry someone I might like just a little, and who might like me in return for reasons other than my pedigree?”
Autumn means cosiness; it’s replacing shorts and blouses for jumpers and jeans. When hygge was first introduced to me, I had no idea what the Danish word meant and why it was suddenly so popular. So I started to do a little research, and quickly came to the conclusion that I had following the idea of it without realising; this is something we seem to all do subconsciously. Continue reading
‘but I can give you some advice about what to do with fear. You control it, Stacey. That’s what you do.’
“Because you don’t think I’m a bad person,” he said. “And I don’t want to prove you wrong.”
One way of imagining life is that it’s a competition between love and death. Death always wins, of course, but love is there to make its victory a hollow one. That’s what love is for.