In redesigning the blog (thank you everyone for the swooning!) I found myself reading through a bunch of my archives. Aside from the normal embarrassment one feels upon reading one’s young and immature diary writings, I couldn’t help but think to myself…damn, I was really happy back then.
There was the time we did six word memoirs. Do any of you remember those? There are some gems in the comments.
There was the time I shaved my eyeball with a razor and ended up with an eye patch (and later with LASIK and 20/20 vision so we can consider it a happy accident).
There was the time my comments got a little crazy when I told you guys the s-e-x-u-a-l poem that Andrew wanted read at our wedding. Good veto, friends.
There was the ordinary Wednesday afternoon that we snuck out of work and got married at the courthouse.
And perhaps my favorite post of all time, writing about falling in love over the course of six Valentine’s days.
There’s more, too. Drunken girlfriend weekends, crafty endeavors, buying a house, beautiful vacations. In 2010 and 2011 the fog of infertility crept up on me. And then a little bit of hope and happiness for awhile, and then the loss. Now I feel like a black cloud follows me everywhere. It shadows all of my thoughts and words. It owns me and I hate it.
One day I’d really like to be a happy person again. If I had to write my six word memoir today, it would be: Things will never be the same.