Cooking Advice

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Actions speak louder than words.

With every door opened, hand held, kiss hello, candle lit, breakfast cooked, I feel loved.  He listens.  He asks questions and hears my answer.  He laughs with me.  His lingering hugs are safe and slow.  He is present in that moment and brings a calm over me that I long for each day.

I also need words.

Words are my baking soda.

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Fire

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It recently came to my attention that I have been consciously or unconsciously so protective of my space that I may have inadvertently hurt his feelings.

I was trying to explain the layout of my laundry room in regard to the gas line to the fireplace in my house.  He said, “Well, I may just need to see it.  You know, I’ve never been in your basement.”  I truly felt puzzled.  I then realized that I have been dating this man for over a year and he has not seen the basement, or the house at all, really.  A quick loop in the kitchen and backyard once.  Oh, and that visit to the bedroom one other time.

I let him in my space behind the wall tonight.  Instead of feeling nervous, I felt strong.  Watching him see my home, was intoxicating.  He was looking and learning…not judging.  In the end, he helped break down the wall a bit without even knowing it.  And, the cold, ignored fireplace that has been dormant for almost 6 years was safely bright and warm with light and flame…and hope.

 

Post Post

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I hear the low hum and thump of the dryer running.

I should be sleeping but there are too many thoughts in my head.

I can hear the cat purring.

I listen to my breaths go in and out.

The high-pitched tones in my ears overtake the layers of chaotic thoughts for a brief moment.

Questions with no answers.

Fear of things known and unknown.

I am exhausted with my eyes wide open.

…after dreaming of cuddly puppies and fluffy kittens I awoke to realize I fell asleep before I hit “post”…