I listen to the rain, pitter-patter. I drink the eggnog. I see the stockings just bought for our very first Christmas. I sit by the lighted tree with those handmade ornaments and all the memories we have already made. Our first dog jumps into the chair with me, to squeeze in beside me.
And I think of moments long-gone. “Oh, it’s only a year ago,” I think to myself. But a year ago? That is long-gone. I can never get it back. I can never live it again. That’s what makes time sweet. That’s what makes it painful.
Before you proposed, you asked me where I wanted it to happen. And when I was a girl, I had dreamed of it taking place in the wide expanse of the desert. But the older I got, and the more I knew you—the sooner my mind changed.
I didn’t want to make more memories at a home where I grew up. I wanted to make a permanent memory somewhere that you loved, somewhere that meant something to you. I wanted to go to your favorite place, a childhood adventure, a spot where I could make an imprint that would start our history together. Read more
I walk along the path. This place where everything reaches me. The past. The present. Glimpses of the future. It’s as though time has no existence. I am simply strolling through every memory, crying through every trial, holding every loved one, leaving them just the same. So I walk, led by rose petals. The rose petals that have grown from my heart, that have become actions, and fallen to make a path for me. The path winding in many different ways. So, I walk, remembering.
The wide desert closes in on me as I walk through the vastness, following my rose petals, and the actions that have grown from my heart. I find the gray rose petals littering my pathway. The time I ran from the truth of his past. Running, although forgiving. Too scared to slow down. Too overwhelmed to stop. The gray rose petals begin to disappear as I leave that time. I see red rose petals piling by a swing. I am no longer in the vast desert, but in a place where love had just begun to change me. To show me what forgiveness was, what friendship meant, what together could mean for two people. Red rose petals. Read more
Words kept her up late at night. Words and coffee that had grown cold. She really only drank coffee for the smell. She sat mulling over her life in intimate detail. She had a notebook on her lap, and her pen poised above the leftover school notebook paper. She was just home for a visit. Time was short as it always is. So, she silently thought the minutes away.
She thought of all the people who told her that life after high school would be so different than planned. She thought of all the dream-slayers who shot down her dreams before she could finish explaining them. She thought of the well-meaning women who preached at her to stay pure, and to never be sucked in by the world.
She thought of all the ladies who assumed Ever After had to include a man. She thought of all the critics of life. She thought of every woman who ever told her never to read a romance novel…because those books weren’t reality. Those books would paint a false picture of love and marriage. She thought of all the things that people say.