I smile as I remember, reflected on those shells, immense moments of joy and warmth. I can hear the laughter, I can feel the salty air on my face sitting on a porch swing and on a hammock at midnight.
I’ve realized that sometimes in life, when it is time to make important decisions, it can be helpful to be a pyromaniac and take the risk at being happy. I’ve realized that doing nothing only leaves you with nothing–and that’s just not the life I want to live–I don’t want a life full of nothing.
Since I was a little girl, the idea that “boys will be boys” and “that’s the way men are” has been drilled into my skull like a chip for programming. It is as if there was a piece missing from the male anatomy that gave them free will over what they could or could not do to women, and women simply had to accept it as a “matter-of-fact.”
When we meet someone for the first time we are seduced by all the wonderful things this person has to bring on to our lives. We are infatuated and addicted to everything they have to provide. Soon after though, we start discovering their flaws, we fight, and we find that it’s not all “la vie on rose” like Edith Piaf promised.