Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away,
I turned forty this past spring, me, 40 years old! I tried all year long to ignore my age. It's so depressing this new phase of my life. I am no longer referred to as miss, girl or young lady I am now Mrs. or Mam. Now, I simply ignore those people who have decided to put me in this category, the clerks, salespeople, baggers (at least the young cute one's) at the grocery store, my nail girl (for this she gets no referrals from me!, this is my way of getting her back for calling out in the salon...oh, mam... you forgot your keys, really is that necessary!) ect... and anyone else who has deemed me old! No, I don't desire to be a kid or a teenager ever again, although I had the time of my life with no responsibilities and parents who pretty much gave us all that we desired or wished for (this, I am not passing on to my children.), I like being an adult. I just don't like that I'm getting older, I don't like that my face cream is no longer for women who are 40(acco...
Comments