Milestones.
.I am standing in a field of bluebells, the likes of which I'll not see again, clutching fistfuls. I am ebulliently happy. This has something to do with my Laura Ingalls Wilder fantasies, but I still love bluebells regardless.
.I am on an entirely different continent, in a country I've known I'd visit for two full years. I am in love with the awful smell, with the curry that burns my tongue, with adventure.
.I am in a park, and he stands before me and stretches his arms wide. I step in; he is my very first boyfriend.
.I am standing on a porch out of the rain. I ask him out, not knowing how disastrous this will all turn out in the end.
.I am at the top of a fourteener, having run to the top. I am a tired glow, and strong.
.I am typing a bittersweet email. For years I'll regret the eventual outcome; for years I'll feel strange connection to a man who may no longer remember my name.
.I am listening to a song in the car. I should tell you that you were my first love.
I should.
2009-05-04 - 7:47 p.m.
