I hope that I can remember this day all winter long. It is a beautiful sunny day and I went for a bike ride with Shawna. What a pretty place we live in and I am so grateful to be alive and live in it. I slept in today and it felt so good. I have talked to myself for years in the privacy of my own journals. My first journal had a lock and key. It was a diary made of red cloth with brown teddy bears. My thoughts and secrets were safe from my mom and sisters. Or so I thought. I am a private woman. I don't like people knowing my thoughts. The only woman I know who is better at deflecting an interest in her to another is Shawna. Morgen babysat for me today while Shawna took me to pick up my bike that was being fixed, or tuned up rather. As we rode through Holladay, in her presence, I feel heard. And she always leaves knowing a lot more about me than I know about her. She prefers it that way. She is warm and gracious in front of people, but she is a master at maintaining her privacy. Intimacy is on her terms. I do share deeply with those closest to me. "What do you think?" I like to ask. After my bike ride, I played catch with Max, watched him ride his bike and fed him lunch. I took a shower and gave Markus a bath. Now I'm listening to Enya and writing in here. I feel secure in not looking back to what was in nostalgia and not forward to what it might be in anticipation, but living right now, in the present, and accepting it as it is now. I am planning on walking to the rink and the park with my boys, we might also walk to Blockbuster later. The car is in the shop and Ben has to stay late at work for the convention. I am keeping quiet while I cry through my eyes without tears. But regrets are making love to the past and that's not where I am. I will just scrapbook later and get to bed early. It's not the lips of a prince that will save me, but my own lips talking. Love,
B