Saturday, Feb. 20, 2016 @ 8:11 pm
I love you more than anything in the world.
He says this to me so quietly that it's barely a breath. It's totally dark, wherever we are, and his lips find mine in the dark, and it's totally perfect.
And I wake up.
I spend a night at the local technical college talking to students as part of an industry night. I go alone, and at first it's horrible but eventually I find my stride. Standing amongst a group of 8 first year students, me talking about my job and career and company, and all of them totally silent and wide eyed. I have their complete attention. I seek out the older students and the women. I find a woman about my age, and we discover people in common and make plans to reconnect at a networking event next month.
After three hours, I am exhausted and starting to lose my voice. I walk back to the company car in the vast expanse of parking lots. I used to live two blocks from here. I can't imagine it now, my life then, living in that house.
The next day I have a project startup meeting with a large municipality. Creek restoration. We start at City Hall and then meet up on site, everyone wearing gore-tex and gumboots, light rain falling and the ferns bright green amongst the glossy brown fallen leaves.
Standing on the creek bank, I strike up conversation with the Urban Forester. Turns out we grew up a few block from each other and know people in common. For a city so large, it oftentimes surprises me with it's smallness.
This morning, the scale read 120.2. Which means that I'm 100 grams away from the teens. I will stop there. At least that's what I'm telling myself.