Diary of a Hopelessly Romantic Pragmatist
To say I was missing something wouldn’t be true. Life has a way of filling its empty spaces with purpose and familiar passions.
The goodness I have in my life feels like an heirloom tapestry...it is worn and wonderful. I feel its frayed patches and its velvety folds. I wrap my family in its warmth. It is a colorful life handmade from loose ends and silken strands. A beautifully imperfect life with the threads of good moves and missed opportunities woven together.
And yet, there’s something unsaid, unknown. I think I found it crumpled and forgotten in the pocket of a too-small pair of jeans. Faded, yet beautifully detailed, it was the softly colored romantic dream I’d carried in my heart. And now, I keep it safe in that pocket, afraid that if I open it up in the bright light of day, it will disappear.
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