Hearts on fire

The other day a friend and I went into this jewelry store to get her ring sized. Normally I feel really self-conscience in jewelry stores, although I'm not entirely sure why. I'm not one of those girls that feels the need to send my husband into debt buying me jewelry, but I will admit I did fall slightly under the spell of all those sparkling gems when I entered the lobby. The strategic lighting is just soft enough that your eyes gravitate to the faceted colors of all the treasures in the cases. The atmosphere was calm and the warm heater was a nice break from the unusual windy Colorado weather. I don't think it was at all a coincidence that I felt I could have stayed and browsed for the remainder of the evening. The sales lady was aloof for the most part, but this gave me the opportunity to educate myself on the science behind gemology and, as I learned, "diamontology." The lady carefully studied the ring and took out a variety of tools, but spoke very little. That was until the inspection was done, the pricing was arranged, and she put on her real "sales hat." She then introduced, to our gazing eyes, the incredible "hearts on fire" diamond. She knew more history on this particular cut than most people do about the history of our country. There was no doubt that it was beautiful and yet I couldn't help but wonder how is it that they can still be discovering new ways to cut a diamond. It seems pretty obvious that a more perfect and symmetrical prism makes for more reflection. I suppose my real issue with the whole thing was that some people spend more time trying to find the perfect diamond instead of the perfect mate! When looking around the beautiful gallery it occurred to me that my intimidation was based on me comparing myself to what I was surrounded by. Comparing my possessions to all of those. My rings are humble and charming. They aren't the perfect cut and they were never draped on blue velvet being awed by jewelry store clerks. They were, however, given to me by someone beautiful and a true work of God's art. Our love has been molded into a perfect form; delicate and balanced. It was upon realizing this that the cases seemed to dim and my own hand began to gleam. These rings on my finger will always symbolize my heart on fire.

Running out of ink.

It amazes me how natural sitting down with a pen and a blank notebook used to send my creativity flying. I feel almost agoraphobic when I stare at a blank page now. Maybe it's because I've stared at the vast nothingness Wyoming seems to offer for so long now that my brain is intimidated by the void of a blank sheet of paper. The odd thing is, is that I have thoughts all the time. Some of which I find intriguing and think I could really describe in depth, but when I begin I usually get distracted and instantly throw myself into something mindless like googling recipes I have little intention on cooking. Well, now that I feel satisfied with the amount of time I've spent dedicated to an array of intermediate level dishes, the house is as organized as I care to get it for the time being, and my husband has sent my mood into one of despair (too much time talking about living here and military red tape); I've decided it was time to do something that I desperately feel a need to do: WRITE!! Set free the flowing river of thoughts and ideas that once saturated paper as easily as grey clouds in a November sky. It occurred to me last night how difficult the next month is going to be. I've been in this kind of numb state for the past few weeks and I'm beginning to think it has just been my mind's way of preparing for what is about to happen. Yes, the thought of approaching my (EEK!) mid-late twenties is a bit frightening; it's really paltry in comparison to everything else. First of all, Wayne will find out if he is accepted for the cross-train and either way that turns out will have a great impact on our lives. For the first time, I will miss my birthday and Christmas with my family, but we are going home for a long weekend and I couldn't be more excited about it! There is just one thing about it and that is the curse of every visit to see my beloved family in Texas...a return flight. I dread leaving them so much! Time in between visits is like an opened wound healing and that makes every time I have to leave a fresh break in my heart. I thought this was suppose to be easier!? This brings me to my last battle and that is having my very close and very beloved friend move away. Military life is plagued by having to be separated from the ones you love. Out of all the mundane, unnecessary classes and out processing being forced on the military, I've yet to see one for how to cope with leaving the people that make getting through this lifestyle tolerable. . . I'm probably speaking too soon and tomorrow night I'll be having dinner alone because Wayne will be attending a commander's call of this very nature. I know change is impertinent and, honestly, I am encouraged by what the future holds, but I think what gets me is the fear of being stuck idle.