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Somewhere out there

May 10, 2008

I’m sitting in my living room feeling the pain of a loss I haven’t even experienced yet, anticipating my possible separation from someone I’ve grown to love very much.  As I do this, I think of all of the soldiers waking up in Afghanistan and Iraq – waking up to another day without a loved one to hold, without someone to cry to, to laugh with about memories from home.  I think of the wives and husbands and sons and daughters across the United States clinging to some piece of a person they haven’t seen for months – a ring, a sweater, a photo – praying with clenched fists and tears in their eyes that their partner, mommy, or daddy returns safely to them soon. 

Why do we complicate life so?  Why can’t life just be about loving our family, friends, and community?  So much pain comes of love because we as a society have chosen to put our energy elsewhere, and by the time we realize that what we really wanted to do with our lives was to love someone and to be loved, we’ve missed that chance.

I’m glad I’ve discovered what life is about at 26 so that I don’t miss out on living it for the next 26 years.  Then I would really have cause to cry.


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