DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID |
PROFILE | GUESTBOOK | OLD | OLDER | OLDEST |
Time changes things. When I was 18 years old, the boy I loved, came to my house one night, and told me it was over between us. Just like that. He had found another. I was caught off guard, devistated, grief sticken. I existed, with a crushing pain in my chest, which I now know to be heartache, for the next three months. I can't remember seeing color during that time. Only shades of grey. I couldn't have imagined a time when I wouldn't be in that pain. But, it passed. God bless time. Nowadays, since I know that time changes things, I get a kick out of looking back and being amazed at what I never expected to be doing now. When I was 18, I never imagined I would ever be in love again - let alone three more times! When I was 22, and impoverished to the point of being afraid to open my mailbox for fear of the bill collectors who were after me - I never would have imagined the ability to straighten out my finances and pay off my bills (but I've done that now, 3 or 4 times...) When I was 27, single, and with no prospects, I couldn't have imagined I would be getting married, and having that wedding I had been planning since I was 10 - but I did get married, and my wedding was fabulous! (the marriage? Not so good..) I certainly never imagined that my much abused body could produce a perfectly beautiful little person. And, I get to play the "couldn't imagine" game with each milestone she crosses. And, I just never could have imagined, ten and a half years ago - when I would drink myself unconscious each and every night, and awake, sick and miserable each and every morning - that I could go even one day without drinking. Couldn't imagine it. But I do. Time changes things. God bless time. SLAY ON BUFFY!!
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Buh Bye! October 05, 2008 Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid One Last Bitchfest for the Road Get the Popcorn Ready I'm a Rich Ho-Bag |
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Marriage is love. |