SELF, Day Twenty-Five: Black, white, and orange

image courtesy of The Cherry Blossom Girl.

This picture reminds me so much of winters spent on hot beaches.
And you know me...I'm swooning.

As a matter of fact, I had this entirely warm memory today. I was in some tropical place with someone at some point in time and when I came back home, the Ghost was waiting for me in the airport, hopping from foot to foot, completely unable to stand still for excitement. He was just bursting at the seams to see me, and when I came into view, he bolted for me, a grin on his face so wide that anyone could see we were in love.

I think we can easily get boggled down with the notion that once love has come and gone, it will never be again. But history repeats itself, friends, and that means that once you've had that can't-stand-still-can't-hide-the-elation-when-I-see-you-love, it's bound to happen again. Isn't that a romantic thought?

On a bit of a related note, contrary to what I might have implied, I didn't go to dinner at a retirement or nursing home on Friday: I simply went at an ungodly early hour, hence the jokes. Twas a delightful evening full of wine and fish and grins that stretched from ear to ear.

Quote of the day:

"I need your grace
to remind me
to find my own."

--Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol