Hey, Eros, how are you?,
I'm excited. Something happened, today, that I didn't think would happen to me again. I was asked on a date. Not that I didn't think I was capable or that it wasn't possible to be asked on a date, I'm not that self-conscious, but the thing that I didn't think would happen would be that I said okay. His name is Liam. We met at the golf club. He was sitting at two tables over with a group of politicians. My doctor family and their politicial group inevitably got to talking, the result of which was alot of drunken stories, most of which embarrassed one figurehead or another, and Liam and I (who were equally bored and feeling out of place) struck up conversation about the discovering of the recent quickened pace of the Andromeda/Milky Way collision. I was sold.
Anyway, he's taking me to hibachi. Tomorrow. I'm really quite excited about the whole thing. Happy New Year, Lynn, you did good!
I don't know why I agreed to go and I've incessantly battled with myself about the whole situation, but I somehow don't feel bad. Promises to yourself can be broken so long as your self is agreeable, and myself is all in for this one. I think. I don't really understand it, but I'm undenaible attracted to him. Who knows why I've abandoned the fear, but somehow all my brain can process when I think of why it's stopped crushing any hope of love in my life is that I don't even need to think about that. Its just a date.
I came through disease, Eros. I got by. My body has been fixed and freed from a debilitating, fatal disease. I've been so afraid, you know, that disease might spring up like that again and that I'd find another love dead from it. But I'm beginning to think that events in life happen for a reason. I'm alive. Why shouldn't I be living? And dates, I think, are important to living life the right way.
So, here I go, Eros. Whatever.