contemplations that will bore you to death

It's cold in my apartment, for first time since we moved in. I think the super turned down the heat, because the radiators feel significantly less warm and floors are quite chilly. I suppose I could pull on a pair of socks instead of padding about the wood floors with bare feet...but I've always been a bare foot type of girl.

Today--well, this isn't a very significant event. No one heroically died, no one moved from the back to the front of the bus, no war was declared over...but it's still a special day to me. Two months since I stood with my brother outside Tap and glanced up on Dave's "Hey!" to see him. My breath wasn't taken away. I didn't fall in love instantly. We didn't exchange meaningful glances. The world didn't pause its spinning on its axis and my heart didn't skip a beat.

Funny how life is like that. We expect--I expect everything to happen so boldly and ostentatiously, almost as though the things that happen on the sly, the quiet little moments are worth less in my mind than the bang of big occasions, the shock of surprise happenings. I thought love would be the same way--because isn't that always how it happens in love stories? People seem to know from the first moment and they act on it with courage and bravery while I shrink at the thought of opening up and letting someone see me through and through.

So life is strange that way. It almost seems as though we begin our lives being taught to think a certain way and then go on to learn that what we think might not necessarily be true. It's a steep learning curve for all of us--growing up and realizing that perhaps we're idealistic or a bit skewed with our world views and expectations.

Anyway, regardless of whatever my parents taught me from childhood, excluding media that negatively affects and taints the way we view the best and the most beautiful things of life...Here is Marcia, sitting in her pink plaid pyjamas in front of her computer, simply existing and contemplating the beauty of life.

I woke up this morning (too early, I might add) to sunshine pouring in through the window, the fan gently whirring in the background, a pair of warm legs and feet pressed against mine...I opened my eyes and rolled over to see him sleeping beside me and certainty flooded through me...the certainty that he's in the right place at the right time. We both are.

Nothing exciting happened on January 8 that will change your life or affect you in any manner. You probably don't care about my mediocre writing on love and relationships. You've probably enjoyed and suffered through love (and life) so many times, it's all old news to you. This is just another sentimental entry by an average girl who is amazed...

...amazed that she somehow stumbled into him. The one who reaches over and brushes her hair back from her face, lovingly touching her cheek and tapping her nose with his fingers. The one who already senses her moods and feelings, her emotional joy or tumult. The one who makes her laugh and makes her cry. The one who stood outside Tap with her and her brother and smiled at her for the very first time.

We surrender to love because it's unavoidable, like the heartache and change we face during our stay on Earth. We surrender to love because it feels so good. We surrender to love because part of us knows that it's what life is all about--relationships, reaching out to those around you, sharing life with someone.

My feet are getting colder. It's time for me to go to bed alone, wake up alone, anticipation for the coming weekend slowly building again.

I woke up this morning happy. I woke up this morning content. I woke up this morning, considered the last two months, turned over and looked at the quiet moment that has crept into my life as a delicate piano solo but is now a full blown orchestral piece.

I woke up this morning and loved.