waking up and going to get coffee or tea somewhere.  I picture us sitting next to each other, not feeling like we have to say anything but feeling good just “being.”

 I see: coffee, breakfast, smiles, jokes, long conversations filled with the sound of your laugh as we capture and enjoy the moment together as we are. 

Letting go is hard. I don’t want to let go. I want to be in control; I want to move the pieces. I want to manipulate everything into place. I want everything to fit just right because I want to feel like I fit just right. So I sit here, trying to orchestrate meetings and manipulate events. Trying to save up so I can be assured of a better, more comfortable future. Oh, manipulative me. Holding onto everything with a steadfast grip to everything that’s crumbling around me. Nothing lasts forever. Not in this life, anyway. All of this is here today and gone tomorrow but that’s the only thing I see–here. Right now. So I hold on because it’s what gives me that false sense of security.

Give me new eyes to see past the here and now. Make me always aware that comfort is not everything and although I think I may have control of anything, I don’t. I never will. Letting go is hard, but in the end it will be worth it. So, so worth it.

If I say “I love,” I had better mean it. I had better show it. I had better live it.

If I’m only giving it to get something (however seemingly small or insignificant), then it is nothing but a payment.