I’m constantly surrounded by people, and this tends to inhibit my ability to think clearly about things I want to think about. So, today, I had dinner with myself.
I sat in the balcony with my favorite Italian pasta dish from a small restaurant down the street.
I faced San Francisco and the setting sun.
The beauty of it all overwhelmed me.
It was chilly and bright and quiet –
The cool wind kept me company and drew me back to reality every time my mind drifted too far.
And I liked it.
I realized that lately I have become so critical of myself.
I have let failures fracture my self-esteem and confidence.
I have let stressful situations and insecurities break my convictions in the beauties of life.
My little date with myself and my thoughts made me love myself more.
It made me sure of who I am and what I want to do.
It made me forgive myself and others –
It gave me the opportunity to fall in love with my life again.
Life is not easy. I think we all learn that very quickly in the process of growing up.
But oh my God, it is so beautiful –
And I’ve spent too long doubting, criticizing, over-analyzing everything.
I’m at peace – with the world, with my struggles, with the hurdles I must jump to get to where I need to be.
I’m giving everything I care for one hundred percent of my effort,
But I’m setting higher standards for the way I treat myself.
I have so much to say, but no ears want to listen.
I think about things that will break your heart.
I scribble in my notebook, but I feel no peace.
I have felt better, I have loved and been loved better.
I have been worth more.
Missing conversations with my best friends.
No matter how much technology tries to convince me, I refuse to abandon my local bookstore.
There’s something about the smell of old books, new books, old bookcases.
There’s something about that old couple who runs the place and smiles, talks, and recommends something from another time.
There’s something about the people who sit in bookstores, so absorbed that they jump when you accidentally step on their toes.
There’s something about the kids who climb the shelves, picking up books and saying, “Daddy I want this one.”
There’s something about the feel of glossy covers, torn edges, printed knowledge.
Time feels unlimited, life feels more simple, happiness less far away.
Instant connection to the past, wisdom, strangers, your own personal thoughts.
I really do hope that the bookstore does not become extinct. I want the future to feel what I feel when I walk inside and stay a while. I really do hope that paper books do not become things of the past. I want the future to know what it’s like to curl up in bed with a good book.
I asked you to come back,
You asked me to come back.
I came back
And that’s when I realized that you never left.
My world lies to me – it seeks to convince me that you’re gone and busy.
But in the silence, in my despair
You reach out to me, you whisper in my ear:
I’m here, I’m there, I’m wherever you are –
My love never leaves you,
I’m here, love.
I’ll always be here.