I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

– Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

It takes many inches to make a mile. We can only move by inches, one inch at a time. It’s when we look miles ahead and wonder “how are we going to get so far?” that we fail to move forward at all. The paradox is that we can choose to live life “in the rear view mirror” and remain so far back that moving forward, even an inch, is most difficult. Most important, we must always keep in mind that any time we suffer a setback while moving forward, it will always be just a matter of inches, and not miles.
– Rick Beneteau

We came, we biked, we pigged out. On almond croissants, eggs, and coffee.

Oh boy, did we pig out. Especially on tasty Japanese food.

Not that I’m complaining or anything. Well, I’m maybe complaining a little about “duck in a can”. Yeah, it sounds as weird as it is. And foie gras poutine? My morale compass was spinning out of control, don’t judge!

Summer’s coming and going quicker than I can keep up, but I’ll have these love handles to remind me it was here and I was there. And man, did I pig out.

My word, there’s nothing quite as entertaining as reading my journal from 2004. Yes. Two, oh, oh, four. My immediate reaction was to be embarrassed for 2004 Justina. Then I was horrified for 2018 Justina, who will happen upon this post and judge 2011 Justina the same way I’m judging 2004 Justina now.

And yet…

The immediate thing that struck me about my old journal was firstly the content and secondly the writing itself. I was a pretty good writer back then, if I do say so myself. Nowadays…not so much. I blame brain atrophy directly correlated to too many years spent “Hello World”-ing (nerd joke for my non-nerdlings out there). And the content, well…would it surprise you that I was an emo little thing back then? I don’t think that surprises anyone, actually. It made me realize how uninhibited I used to be about journaling.

To be honest, I’m actually a little grateful that I was such an open book back then. I’m reminded of the things that I was hurting about and I’m reminded of the things I used to want for myself. It brings me relief to know that 2011 Justina can assure 2004 Justina that the hurting will get better and she will one day have those things her heart desires and that in the next seven years life will be so twisty and turny with disappointments (unfortunately) and surprises (thankfully). Nowadays, most of what I record is a watered down, sugar coated version of the good bits. It would be nice for 2018 Justina to have an accurate recording of this time in my life to serve the same kind of reassurance that the hurting will get better (it always gets better) and her hearts desires have always been within reach and that the twists and turns are what make this journey all worthwhile.

As I quoted one August day seven years ago:
“Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Forget about those who don’t. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.”
– Harvey Mackay

2018 Justina, if you’re reading this, I hope you’re nodding your head in agreement right now.

Another year gone by, another wish made.

To appreciate and be appreciated.
To love and be loved.
To constantly be in awe of life.

Sometimes wishes do come true.