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It’s been busy around my house lately, hence the lack of any posts. My best friend just came home from 9 months at school in Scotland, and I’ve really just felt like spending all my time out in the sunshine or with her. Today, however, I really felt like writing. I’ve found that the type of blog writing I like best is fiction. I feel most comfortable writing about things that are only in my head, so here you have it! This is a scene that was bouncing around in my head quite a bit until I finally took the time to write it down:

You’ve blocked that day from your memory, the day you mounted that map to your ceiling, a single black pin stuck in the place where you met. You’ve gone countless times to rip it down, fold it up and throw it out, but each time, your fingers stop an inch away from the ragged edges, and you reverently soothe down the corners while you stare at that horrible, beautiful black pin. You curse that pin, if it wasn’t there, maybe you would have peace. You won’t let yourself admit that without it, you would have never experienced the most meaningful thing this world has to offer. It’s gone now, but at least you had it for a time. And a single little pin has the ability to bring you to tears, disrupt your heartbeat’s steady drum. Break through all of the walls you’ve built to tell yourself you don’t need anyone and never did. One look at that pin, and you’re not just staring up at a tattered map of the world. You’re walking hand in hand again, feeling that feeling you lost so long ago. Your heart feels almost whole again, remembering him, but there’s a piece of it missing, and nothing can fill it again. Because he’s gone, just like you wish that map would be.

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