My friend tells a story of when her son was a little boy. He had a rough go in the classroom setting because he was wiggly, energetic, and probably smarter than 90% of the school, including the staff and faculty. One day he was fed up and gave the entire classroom a piece of his mind, ending with the comment “…and I’m not sorry.” I chuckle because I can imagine his impish face and sparkling eyes as he said it. It’s another one of those phrases that often comes to my mind, applied to any number of life circumstances.
This summer I met someone. Someone really smart, kind, funny, warm, electric, dynamic and seemingly very much enamored of me. It was the first time, truly, the very first time since Bryan that I have felt “home” with anyone. I can say without any reservation that I fell in love with him. And while, for reasons that baffle me, it hasn’t seemed to work out, I am so thankful for every minute. How could I not be?
My mama used to say love is never a waste. It changes us. It heals us. It makes us better people. And while heartbreak is a real effing pisser, I’m so glad I got to have this experience, got to meet and know someone extraordinary even if for a brief moment.
I fell in love. And I’m not sorry.
Feryl Files 