Just thinking about all the times I resign myself to letting things leave me. The expectation(s) that something small would grow into something far more significant and beautiful. And when that doesn’t happen, we have let it all go. At the end of the day, it is lovely to let what wasn’t meant for you slip through your eager, waiting fingers. Because that’s growth. That’s adulting. That’s life. But, boy, does it hurt something awful. Because: hope.
I’ll be honest: this quote, albeit lovely, still triggered me a bit. Because I’m so tired of traveling alone. And when it comes to my favorite season, there’s an unbearable aspect about it: enjoying the beauty and electricity in the air by my lonesome. I’ve discussed this before–that something about fall that drives the desire to be accompanied by another even more than usual. The feeling remains. Heightened by crisp evenings and the turning of trees, no less.
I wish I understood why. I long for a change. Until then: I’ll continue to enjoy the “finest company” around me.
#30: Guess who was super busy yesterday and the day went by without the next to last blog entry for Blogtober?
So, yeah, we forgot. Buuuuut…
#31: We Did It!
A whole month of talking to y’all everyday about my favorite season in some way, shape, or form. A whole month of appreciating each and every one of you who read, commented, liked, and lovingly followed me. A whole month of realizing that I can be way regular on this platform, far more than I have been, and that I thoroughly enjoy every second here on This Square Peg.
Happy Fall, Y’all. Happy awesome month of Blogtober. Happy Autumn. Happy Reading. Happy Blogging. Take time to walk down a leaf-covered road and enjoy every minute of it.
(2) New lipstick and lip liner from MAC: Smoked Purple and Nightmoth, respectively. (The saleslady was slick; she heard me saying that I had no intention of purchasing makeup and then sweetly asked me to try on the lippie above to see if what I “thought” about it. Hook–line–sinker. That smoked purple. Y’all? A beauty. Pics coming tomorrow.
Sometimes I wonder if I love fall so much because it’s the visual embodiment of all the things that, psychologically, I should be doing a better job of maintaining. Every year, nature takes stock and detoxes, shedding its skin in the loveliest, most wondrous of ways. It’s a lesson to be learned, and certainly one to echo.
Because, dear reader, I know how to do the following things:
drive long distances
remember every vestige of wrongs done to me
Let’s discuss that last one. Is it really letting go and shedding if I hold on to the memory, almost lovingly, to my chest? Is my intent to remember not to be hurt again really a thinly veiled attempt to just remember the hurt(s)?
And yet, one thing I actively try to do is be a good forgiver. In the past, I held grudges like a boss. As I grew up and looked inward, it was important that growth and maturing involved a decided effort to strip away some of the vendettas grudges I was holding on to. I’ve come a long way. But there’s still road to traverse.
Sometimes I think wanting to protect our hearts, as women, involves a large dose of remembering. The heart needs protection. It needs a shield. We have to remember the past so we don’t repeat letting people inside who shouldn’t be there. But balance. So much balance is necessary. To wrap the heart in a shield doesn’t also mean to let it grow cold with memory.
Look at all the trees around you, just stripping things away and readying themselves for the cyclical new beginning.