and all I kept thinking was will anyone else ever love me like that again?
So, it should go without saying that I am hopelessly addicted to Starbucks coffee. They're little 'The Way I See It' stories are a lot of fun. I read this one the other day and it got me thinking:
"The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating in work, in play, in love. The act that frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life."
Is that what I'm falling to? Am I letting the barrier win? I ration that I'm still young enough to make mistakes. It'd be wiser to make them now then later. My mother told me recently that, in her valued opinion, the magic number is 24. By the time someone reaches that age, they will basically know what they want and what they need. Before then, it would be foolish to hold steadfast to any standard or ideal, for it will likely crumble. She's right in a lot of ways, I'm sure. The sort of adversities that are promised at young adulthood supply unbelievably heavy burdens to bare. Anything in its path is threatened. If I have love now, I will wait until after the storm has passed. That's what makes sense to me now.
