365 Project: Day 90

I saw a theme for a photography contest today: What is love? I think I might enter this image. Its not really the sappy hearts and flowers picture that the judges are probably expecting. I've written about love before, but I've never asked myself this specific question. What is love?

Honestly, I can say, I don't think I know anymore. My past experiences with love, in a romantic sense,  have gone from wonderful to frustrating, confusing, and painful. I've lost a lot of myself in relationships. Every time I meet someone new it only gets more and more difficult to give my heart away. Now days, I tend to keep a safe distance.

Each time a relationship ends I retreat to lick my wounds. I hide away and try to put myself back together, stitch by stitch. I won't let anyone in for a long time. Its tough to get through the layer of scar tissue that has grown around my heart. It gets thicker and harder with every break, every wound, every little prick of a hurt feeling.

Right now I feel like things are as they should be. My heart is back in its rightful place. The stitches will hold me together until I can heal completely. It'll take a while, but I'll be good as new one day.

So I ask myself...what is love? To me, love is a broken heart on the mend.

365 Project: Day 66

My day (in no particular order):

I cut my tongue eating a cherry Blow Pop. My mouth filled with a surprising amount of blood. I took a picture.

I painted my nails. Isn't that such a strange thing that people do?

I filled my tank at a gas station I've never been to before. There was a motion activated speaker on the pump screaming an advertisement at me. There was a mute button on it. I pressed it twice. It didn't work.

I drank 5 cups of coffee today...so far. I didn't eat anything until 4 o'clock.

I went to the bank and stood at the ATM freezing while a teller explained the function of a Debit card to someone for 15 minutes with complete disregard for the line forming behind them. The man didn't even withdraw any money.

I went to the library and checked out Edgar Cayce and Richard Avedon's biographies. I didn't check out any of the three books I actually went in there to get.

The man at a fast food drive through was rude to me when I ordered at the speaker. When I got to the window, he hit on me. I drove away. I may not go back.

I drove through the wrong exit in a parking garage downtown. Instead of making me back up, even though there was no one behind me, the attendant got out of the booth and manually lifted the gate for me.

I missed my exit on the freeway and had to take the long way around.

I spoke to a woman named Nancy on the phone three times. She was eating while she talked to me. It was gross.

Isn't it amazing how all these little tasks and moments add up to your day? These little moments are your life. I'm not sure how I feel about that.