Patience

They say, "Hope is patience with the lamp lit."

Unfortunately, my lamp is sputtering about...grasping for the bits of patience that are flickering away into the night sky, just out of arm's reach.

What can I say? Patience has never been one of my virtues.

Yet these days I find myself continually reaching for it. Clinging to the invisible threads...hoping they will keep their promise.

Hoping that what I see waiting at the road's end is real.

Sleep

Captain McSteamy has come and gone.

Now....I need sleep. :o)

Timing

My turning thirty seems to have brought some things to light and certain people out of the darkness.

With my hand outstreched to take theirs, I can't help but to wonder what else will find it's way out of the shadows.

Shhhhh, is She Still Breathing?

First of all, thank you everyone for the well wishes. I was relieved to find that I was still breathing when I woke up this morning, so turning 30 didn't kill me as I feared it would. :o)

I especially want to thank Pete (Px) for the best birthday gift of all. He plotted and planned and went to all sorts of trouble to call me all the way from the UK to wish me a happy birthday. This is why I love him, he is thoughtful....AND he has a hot accent!!!

I would be lying if I said the anticipation of having to check the 30-35 box in life hadn't been eating at me. I was certain that my twenties were going to be hard to leave behind. Even up until the very last minute...my heels were dug in and I was clinging to anything I could wrap my fingers around...desperate to stop the pulling of what I thought was certainly a blackhole from which I'd never escape.

But the harder I fought, the more I realized that I was clinging to nothing.

What was it that I was so anxious to keep from losing...the heartache? The bitterness? The stress?

I realized that the really great things in my life came at the end of my time in the 25-29 box and they have continued to be here to hold my hand as I pack away the past and peer nervously into the future.

I'm Just Going to Cover My Eyes

Hope

Love can be a fickle thing.

There are times when it nurtures you...makes you feel protected and indestructable.

Then there are the times when it beats you down. Throwing punch after punch until your legs give way, leaving your body crumpled on the cold, hard floor.

Sometimes, even when the bruises have long since faded...the mere memory of the hurt is enough to shy you away from letting yourself fall again. You build protective walls and wear armor over your heart. You become keenly aware of the labored beating beneath your chest as it strains against the bits of glue and tape holding it together.

Your soul focus becomes survival.

A friend recently said to me, "Lindsey, I just don't believe in the fantasy of true love anymore. It's an unattainable goal that builds you up...only to let you down. I just don't know that soulmates exist in reality."

I pondered that statement for awhile...I turned it over and over in my head until the complete and hopeless romantic in me took over. Yes, I've had my share of bitterness and anger. And yes, I've had to pick my broken body up off the floor and nurse wounds that I thought would never heal. But I have to believe that true love exists...I know it does...I've felt it. I know what it's like to meet your other half and finally feel whole. I know what it's like to have someone tell you that you are the one they were meant to spend the rest of their life with...that you were put here for them.

I know that we can't give up hope.

I know that every ounce of hope breathes life into this wounded little heart of mine and every day it beats just a little stronger.

Countdown

Apparently time has been flying by while I have been twittling my thumbs, completely oblivious to the fact that I have two 'Biggies' barreling towards me at a rapid pace.

The first is that exactly one week from today...I am turning...ok, I'm not even sure I can say it.

THIRTY.

Let us all observe a moment of silence.

The second is that Captain McSteamy will be here in two weeks for his R&R. I don't mind telling you that I'm looking forward to that...though getting your house ready for a guest is more work than I was expecting. But it will be worth it. He's funny and sweet. He shares my love of all things quirky and thinks my Darth Tater and Spud Troopers are cute...not to mention that he's incredibly hot. (Ummmm, El Capitan...I know you peruse this page from time to time..so don't let that last comment go to your head mister.)

So without even realizing it...events are about to occur that are going to change things...we'll just see if it's for the better...

Loves

I was recently asked, "When was the last time you had a man tell you he loved you?"

The answer was an easy one, very recent. Eric.

I asked her the same question..."10 years ago." Hmmmm

That got me to thinking of how lucky I actually have been. I have had the fortune to be loved by not one...but four men in my lifetime. And I know there are many people that are lucky if they can think of at least one.

My first was in high school. It was more like puppy love now that I look back on it...but it was sweet...until it resulted in my first heartache.

The Second was a learning experience and the reason I started this blog. I think I loved him more than he loved me but I'd venture to guess that most of us can plead guilty to that experience at least once in our lives. I'm not bitter or resentful anymore. I don't hate him...if anything, I'm grateful.

If I hadn't taken that journey, I could never have fully appreciated the love closest to my heart. The person who kissed away all the hurt and bitterness...the person who took me by the hand and led me through the light at the end of the tunnel. The person who not only made me believe in love again but showed me what real love was. And even though our paths were forced apart...he banished my fear of love and left me with the gift of renewed hope.

Love has even been found in the most unlikliest of places...on Blogger. I have been graced with the affection of a very special friend (Px) whom I love dearly. There is nothing that makes you feel more special than knowing that there is someone out there who is thinking about you and caring about you. I am very lucky indeed.

Why

Why is it that men always seem to know how to push my buttons?

Whether it's someone I used to love, someone I still love or someone I like.

All of them seem to have unearthed a rogue copy of "Lindsey, the Operator's Manual" and committed it to memory.