only threehundredandsixtyfivedays away

One year from now, I hope to be here once again--lying on my light green bedspread, looking at the Christmas lights that hang above my window--thinking about who I've become.

I hope then to look in the mirror just to tell myself once more that God knew exactly where He was taking me all along.

I hope that I'll look at my hair since grown and my countenance since brightened just to realize what I've always had a hard time believing--even my happiest days will get happier.

I hope to look back on twenty-twelve with such love and gratitude toward who I've become and all of the people who've made me that way.  I hope that I'm still listening to Noah and the Whale because of the way they make my heart beat a little slower.  I hope that my smile is just as wide and that I don't lose too much of the person I've become.  Except maybe the way I bite my nails when I'm nervous or the way I sometimes forget to say, I love you.  

Yes, I hope to be better, greater, smarter, kinder, but I like who I am, too.  I like the way I see the moon and the stars shining in the sky at night.  I like the way I feel close to people even when I don't really know them. And I don't think I could bare to lose that.

I hope to look and smile at the person I've become.  

Til then, I'll savor every smile and tear and breath I get this year.  Sitting here, thinking, I'm already filled with an overwhelming excitement toward my future.  And despite the astonishing amount of tears, and goodbyes, and, "I will remember you forever's" I see in my near future, I know I'm so incredibly blessed to feel this way.  

I expect tears and an ache in my stomach when I leave you, because, really, you're the only life I've ever known and you've been good to me.  My God has been good to me.

And I guess as long as I really believe that I have to believe that He'll take care of tomorrow, too.  And I guess when you really begin to believe that, there's no more room for fear. 

Cheers.

-Linds