heavy eyelids, heavy top knot.September 27, 2015
Can we just take a moment and admire Taylor's facial hair before proceeding any further into this blog post? I have a lot of friends who oppose men with hairy faces, but in my opinion, I think it's quite charming. I mean, who could look at Taylor and actually attempt to make the claim that the kid doesn't look good with a beard? NO ONE. Hey Taylor, I like your beard.
The past couple of weeks have been really interesting. Now, bear with me for the rest of this little blabber segment I'm about to put on, because tonight I just have a lot to say about a lot of things (and it feels like two in the morning-- even though it's not-- and my hormones are raging so blah). So let's just kick it off with the number one thing on my mind right now: being engaged is both the best AND worst thing I've ever experienced. It's the best because I love my Taylor Dale. It's the best because he's my person and I'm his and we've even got a ring to prove it. (Which is awesome in and of itself, but also awesome on the side because random creepy guys hitting on me happens MUCH less frequently than it did before...) It's the best because when I envision my "future" and all that may exist ahead in the paths of life, I can envision him right there next to me holding my hand every step of the way; there's so much comfort in that thought! He's with me for good!
But all that being said, being engaged is the WORST. (And this is where I get really negative and vent because I'm full of estrogen and that's just what estrogen does.) It's the worst because Taylor lives hours away from me and I only see him on the weekends. It's the worst because having to say "goodbye" to him after every "goodnight" is quite possibly my newest and biggest pet-peeve. It's the worst because we've got the commitment of marriage... but we're not actually married yet. And also, just wedding planning. So yeah, being engaged is the best. But it's also the worst. Or maybe I'm just bipolar.
My age is now a bigger number than the days I have left as a single woman... and that's a crazy thought because I'm only twenty-years-old! But inside my brain I'm still only five years old. Isn't it funny how we never feel quite old enough to be as old as we are and how we never actually feel old enough to be doing the things that we do? Time is a sneaky lil' bugger; but I'll get him back someday, I hope.
I'm just looking forward to a time when time doesn't even matter at all. A time when our toes can be free, and our hearts too. We can dance all day on a beach if we want to. Or go to a place we've never been before just because we've never been there.
I just want to be free.
And that's what I'll be.