damik's Diaryland Diary

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The Meandering Path

I commit my life to our partnership in marriage. I promise to comfort you, to encourage you in all walks of life. I promise to express my thoughts and emotions to you, and to listen to you in times of joy and times of sorrow. I love you and you are my closest friend. Will you let me share my life and all that I am with you?

Some times digging is a bad thing. I was looking for my Opa's address, so I pulled out the memory box. Half-filled diaries and old photographs to remind me who I used to be. Undelivered letters and childish dreams. And my wedding planning book. I don't know if I should file that one under childish dreams or what. The first page, printed up all nice with flowery graphics and everything was that, our vows.
I'm OK with it. I could go the rest of my life with the way things are now.
The ring is still on the floor behind the fridge.
I'm OK with that too. I don't know if he knows it's there, or if it's lost to him.
I found a book of qoutes. I have one in latin, I obviously thought it would be terribly clever of me to not translate it, so now I have no idea what it means.
Utrum per hebdomadem perviniam....
Searching memory banks, but am coming up empty.
The thing about me is I can look back at these old pictures and smile, even conjure up a happy memory to go with it. Put forth a "Good Times". But if I looked back into my diary, or realisticly looked back, it wasn't a good time, I wasn't happy. I'm not happy now, but at some time, I'm going to look back and think I was. Is it just more proof that I need to live in the moment? Would that leave me more fullfilled?
Or maybe its just sometimes you have to look back and smile. Give your self a little chuckle and say "I made it... I wonder what's next."
Never did find my Opa's address, I'm a bad grand-daughter.
I think I lived my life best when I wasn't afraid.

9:13 p.m. - 10-15-02
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