An ornate and gold-edged book, of which inside are secrets even she doesn't know or understand. But tucked all through it are leaflets of paper, as if she'd rather not write in the book its self. Except on the first empty page of the book is written in exquisite, flowing penmanship her full name. ~ Lavender Cecelia Morgan.
Sunday, 14 January 2018
Been talking a lot to a friend of mine, he's so sweet, and caring...yet I've no indication he wants anything more then helping a.friend feel better.. I may be falling for him, why does the whole idea of love now terrify me. I don't want to run, no desire what so ever there...but I am scared to open my heart, what if there is only more pain? Even I know my own advice...one can not be open to love with the vulnerability to pain. But it is supposed to be worth it!....But is it?....On another note, all desire to run, even the desire to farm...gone. Now replaced with...I am lucky IF I move! Why am I such a contrasting spirit, jumping from one end of the spectrum to the other?
