A Blogger’s Return

Kristen Bridal

 

It reminds me of every journal I’ve ever started.

When I was packing my things to move across the state last month, I’d sort through the boxes tucked under my bed or stowed haphazardly in the closet for posterity. I discovered what must have been dozens of journals and notebooks and stapled scraps of paper from third grade and beyond.

Each one would inevitably contain a long, scribbled entry on my current thoughts, my view of the world for that fleeting moment. With a final flourish of documentation, I’d end with “write again soon,” only to have the next entry go unwritten. Whatever happened between write-again-soons was my entire life–not recorded in a journal but lived. Imperfect and always too messy to concisely jot down, but lived nonetheless.

 

So for a year–exactly a year today–I’ve been caught in the in-between, wanting desperately to write but trying to carve out the time from all the living.

Here I am with my inevitable update, harkening back to my elementary days for inspiration.

I got engaged in San Antonio to the best person I know, my partner for life. We planned a wedding. And then we got married on a cool, sunny day in February, with our family and friends as witnesses in a little country church. As cliche as it sounds, it was everything I ever dreamed it would be. Some people will say your wedding day will inevitably be a let-down, unable to fulfill the expectations you’ve set so high for it, so I was prepared for a little disappointment. But in the end, it was pure magic walking down that aisle and seeing my groom waiting for me. Nothing prepared me for that. It felt just like I’d hoped–sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, casting warm light on everyone I love. I was shocked by how calm I was. With my dad by my side, it was like walking home.

 

The man I now happily call my husband is a pilot, so I moved across the state last week, where we’ll be for the next two years or so. It’s a different life, but a good one too. Things are still settling around us. There’s furniture to assemble and more boxes to unpack and curtains to hang, but we’re finally together and that feels more right than anything ever has.

My life is much quieter now, but I feel my writer’s mind stretching, as if waking from a long sleep. I chatted with my best friend today, and I told her that if there’s a writing part of my brain, it’s a dusty, cobwebbed desk with a burned-out lamp and a creaky chair.

I hope you’ll continue to read this little blog of mine. It’s not much, but it’s my small contribution of art to this crazy world.

Now, I just need to do a little dusting at that desk and find a way to get the light back on.

 

Until then, write again soon.

 

 

{image source: the lovely & amazing Sara Jane Photography}

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  • There is more light there than you think. Yes – very dusty, but you’ve seen worse. It settled from a recent storm. Step #1, remove sunglasses. Step #2, the storm was what you always wanted. You’re not alone. Ask your husband to help you sweep.