I sat down to post on here a bit ago, had this long emotional post all written. Then I looked out the window, at the semi-grey sky.
We finally seem to have a break in the heat. It might actually be a nice day here.
So, I deleted what I had originally written and wrote this.
The one thing my physio therapist keeps saying to me is to concentrate on the progress I've made in the last few weeks and not about what my limitations currently are.
It's not a natural expression for me to think positively. Or so I thought until I sat down to write this morning.
I'm a hopeless romantic. I believe in love, real love, true love, deep love, honest love. I have seen first hand with my Grandparents that it's possible to have that deep a connection and love.
I've also seen way too many examples of bad relationships with little to zero love. My parents were shinning examples of that.
Yet, I still believe in the fairy tale. If I didn't, I wouldn't be trusting the omens and I sure as hell wouldn't be coming in here all the time writing notes for a man I've never met, or wrestlers whom have laughed at me countless times.
But I do, and I am.
There is an episode of Sex and the City, where Carrie is asked by her publishers to write a dedication for her book. She then has to figure out if the whole time she's an optimist or a pessimist. ( I think it's season 5 episode 70 Cover Girl )
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