Every word is true, and it is just as my heart had spoken. We are soulmates.
"We appreciate the beauty of life. The beauty of falling in love. The beauty of growing stronger after each lesson.
The beauty of the heart."
Every word is true. And I cry because my heart is out there so plain with you, because at last I've found someone who understands.
What a meaningful start to the new year, and a precursor of what we aim still to be.
I could imagine her on her wedding day, a true princess in a fairytale of white tulle and golden trimmings.
Sunlight in her hair, stars in her eyes.
And I just want to see you married happily ever after. Never cheated on again.
In the year before this she experienced "the miracle of finding, knowing and loving" [herself]".
I had a great many defining moments; but only today did I find the summary of my 2011 - learning to be a bigger person.
I learnt to accept defeat gracefully, because grace is what makes a woman;
to extend forgiveness to those who did not ask for it, because I saw how past years of grudgery had embittered my insides.
To hold my peace where a younger me would have made destruction of disorder,
to listen to poison and know it for just that, nothing more;
to fall flat on my rump and then look upward and onward, 
and laugh,
and love.
As I go through this life, I realise there is a fair
proportion (not too common, but not too scarce either) of people like
me, web-thinkers who connect the dots without trying. Kindred spirits,
or those of "my world".
Even though we are little more than a week into the year, already profound moments have found their way in to beautify my life by that much.
What is it about writing that is more enduring than identical words expressed in speech? Is it just that it can be read again and again while the most meaningful words spoken tend not to occur exactly as they did last, if ever again?
This year will be significant, I feel it.
Away from my homeland I am free to eat only what I please, spend time according to my needs, and furnish my room as I wish.
In just my first semester, there have been so many little things which mattered to me, that I never had at home.
A fruit bowl. Wall hangings. Home-baked muffins. Someone who asked "How was your day?"
White furniture. Warm lighting. Pretty things everywhere I looked.
And I know I am partially indulging in a lost adolescence; my own swallowed by angst and mistrust.
It may seem delayed,
but I am going to laugh,
and have a good time,
and feel pretty.
It may seem strange, but I am both girl frivolous at last, and at the same time, woman growing wise in heart.
My life philosophy;
to shortchange
.
Oh this is youth, and how glad I am to be living it!
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