Disclaimer: Being a single woman sometimes this blog will address issues of the heart and false starts.
Tonight I got sentimental. It was a rather bittersweet feeling, more sweet than bitter, bitter than sweet. My mother and I were talking about this and that when I began to share stories she never knew. I told her about how I met D., and how he walked back and forth several times before stopping. I told her about our first kiss, and how he attached his class ring to a dozen roses and had it delivered to me for my birthday. I told her about P.(her favorite) who ticked me off one night in my dorm's lobby just to meet me. We ended up talking for hours, and then he sent me a Winnie Pooh card. The card was my favorite literary character and it had his phone number. I told her about how A. made a vase out of Snocap chocolate boxes, and then put flowers in it. I fell in love though when he spent an hour trying to find my son's paci. My mother listened to the stories and talked about her own memories of the boys who have come and gone, and with this opening of memories, I realized how blessed I have been.
I have been loved. I have loved, and I will continue to love. I will wake up alone on Thanksgiving, but I still carry this love in me. Corney, yes, but true. I am so blessed to have known real emotion from real people who weren't knights in shining armor. They were flawed and complex. They helped to shape me into...well, me.
For that, thank you, dear hearts.