This post is my humble entry to Writing Coach, Joanna Young's Group Writing Project: My Love Affair With Writing, over at Confident Writing.
It started years ago. We’d sneak off and when no one was watching, we’d dance together for hours. I have such fond memories. It seems only yesterday it all began. I was young, impressionable, naïve, a dreamer. I’d gaze out the window endlessly, fantasizing about my love, wishing time could stand still and we were on our own island. I loved that idea, the serenity of an island and my love all to myself. Selfish, I was! If only I were spending time writing instead of being stuck in a stale ole classroom.... I would spend that time, though, soon. First, other duties beckoned.
Isn’t it funny how you can be so in love? It truly amazes me that you can think of nothing else in this world but how your heart feels, yearns, wants to share your thoughts wholeheartedly. You’d think it would fade after years of spending time together, but no, it only grows stronger, more vivid, more passionate with each passing second, minute, hour, day. It pulls me to be all I can be, to wake up every morning as the sun kisses my face, urging me to spread my wings and soar. It stirs the burning passion deep within my soul, to the core of who I am.
There have been ups and downs, break-ups, and reconciliations. I’ve learned a lot over the years, though. Sometimes we need a break from each other. Yes, we do. The love is sweeter once we meet again. Magical things happen when creativity strikes. It’s never too late to correct mistakes--oh, no--dreamers always dream, and this love should never be taken for granted. It’s a special gift, a gift I cherish and hold close to my heart, for always. I never want to let it go. I’ll keep hold of it until I’m laid to rest. I’ll be buried with it. No one can take it away from me….
I smile each time we have a secret date. It’s the sneaky part that’s fun, when only we’re awake. I cherish the times I hear those whispering rivers of words that speak to my heart, stir my emotions, bring laughter, tears, and makes me think. I feel like a schoolchild, tiptoeing to the kitchen, lifting the lid off the cookie jar and taking the first bite from that scrumptious chocolate chip cookie. It’s divine. The second bite is even better, and when the cookie is gone, plus a few more, I feel like we’ve really pulled something off!
Love becomes as gold with time after being tried in the fire, it's true, as is the case with writing, so even when I'm old and my hands are too frail to caress the keyboard as they once did and my ears are too worn to hear your sweet whispers, we’ll still dance. We’ll just dance slower, we'll do the waltz.
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