I see the spring is finally coming. The weather outside signals that the soothing darkness and coldness of the winter are behind, and the season of change has arrived. The crude, cold, naked ground has revealed itself as if it was apologizing for all the miseries there have been. And everything is so still. Nothing really seems to move. The naked trees outside are all waiting for something, standing still in the grey weather, awakening from their long sleep of winter. Everything waits for something. Everything is awakening.
"I'm not living; I'm just killing time", I used to think. But now I'm finally starting to realize that time is too precious to kill. And now, as I once again sit at my couch at the blissfull moment of the saturday morning, waiting to go outside and meet the one person who has brought more to my life than anything or anyone ever before, I feel that the steady flow of the existence-of-moments is finally making a rational continuance between the past and the future. I don't yet now how to live, but I'm learning all the time.
The original intent has gone. Maybe I'll find another purpose. The gentle touch of the noon greets me as I look outside through the window. I can see a glimpse of the sun between the curtain of clouds, and the beautiful, grey day of the early spring embraces my worthless existence. I wish I could tell you how much I love you, but there just don't seem to be the words...
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