Man, oh man.
Thus far, '11 has been the best. Granted that there have been certain people that have left my life--some by choice, others by obligation--all in all, believing that everything happens for a reason, I choose to smile and continue on.
Love has yet to find me in its path. I keep waiting, day in and day out. A couple of months ago, I remember writing something to the extent of, "Does the 'work in progress' stamp on my forehead harbor a sudden dismissal by potential boyfriends?" and I don't think a day goes by in which that doesn't cross my mind. Does the sign warrant a "next, please"? Quite frankly, I believe that it does.
I continue to try and--unfortunately? regrettably? thankfully?--fail with each striking glance I give at church, at a club, at the local bookstore.
Some say that the second you quit looking for something, you'll find it (love, especially), but I just can't bring myself to halt my search. Who knows? Maybe the next post you'll see, dear reader, is that of love finally finding me, and there attached to the paragraph below will be a picture of a hand, clasped over top of another, and a ring resting amid the flesh...
Or, you'll just see another post griping about some boy or work or how my dog chewed yet another hole in my comforter.
Regardless, life will go on and the smile will be there tomorrow.
