I think I existed before I knew you. I’m not sure. You. I can’t describe how you undo me. I think about you when there’s nothing to do and everything to do. You. You are nothing like anyone and everything like everything I want. If you knew the way you make me feel. If you knew. You are every thought I care to think, and I can’t remember before you. What did I think about before you? You.
I love this movie. I watched it again last night and was laughing like it was my birthday (there's always excessive laughing on my birthday) and singing loudly and badly (I recorded myself so I can verify that it was truly terrible) at the top of my lungs to all the songs. When I was in practicum in seminary they did this thing where we would start each new class with a little morsel of humorous or interesting information about ourselves. Our leaders would come up with a question like, what's your favorite song, movie, type of icecream and we'd all shout out our answers...some a little too enthusiastically if you ask me, Butter Pecan is not a flavor to be so proud of. I can't remember the guys name (even though he was too attractive for his own good) so I'll call him Fergus. So one day Fergus asked us all what our favorite movie was and everyone was shouting out their answers and I was relieved because I knew the answer to this one (I was a little shaky with my resp...
I came to a fork in the road. Two remarkably different roads diverged from the fork. Everything I wanted was down the rough road. Everything I didn’t want was down the easy/smooth road. Every day for decades I chose the easy road. I acquired a life I didn’t recognize, filled with other people’s goals and dreams. And then one day I thought about that fork, and I started to wonder if I could go back and choose the other path. I wondered what my life would be like if I took the hard road. It started in the very edges of my thoughts and then over time it got more and more insistent until no thought, but it, could be held. Could I go back and try the hard road? Would I lose everything I acquired? Would I even care if I lost it? The risk seemed daunting. So I edged back. I didn’t run, I didn’t dive and claw my way back... I edged, looking over my shoulder with every inch. And things started to fall away. Slowly, silently, almost imperceptibly things began to fade as I inched back....
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