Don’t fall in love with a curious one.
They will want to know who you are, where you come from, what your family was like.
They will look through your photographs and read all of your poems. They will come over for dinner and speak to your mother about how their curiosity has taught them things of use to her. They will ask you to rant when you’re angry and cry when you’re hurt.
They will ask what that raised eyebrow meant. They will want to know your favorite food, your favorite color, you favorite person. They will ask why.
They will buy that camera you liked, pay attention to that band you love in case there’s a show near by, they will get you the sweater you smiled at once. They’ll learn to cook your favorite meals.
The curious people don’t settle for your shell, they want the insides.
They want what makes you heavy, what makes you uneasy, what makes you scream
for joy, and anger, and heartbreak.
Their skin will turn into pages
that you learn to pour out your entire being in.
Don’t fall in love with the curious one.
They won’t let a sigh go unexplained.
They will want to know what they did
Exactly what they did to make you love them.
Year, month, week, day.
“What time was it? What did I say? What did I do?
How did you feel?”
Don’t fall in love with a curious one because I’ve been there.
They will unbutton your shirt
and read every scar
They will dissect your every limb, every organ, every thought, every being.
“There’s a curiosity in you that will move mountains some day
as effortlessly as you’ve moved me for years.”
Hot coffee and cold winter mornings are two of the best soul mates who ever did find each other.
Update and ramblings
I am sitting here in my new chunky cardigan from Target, in the warm morning sun on my front porch, with a Chai from my BRAND NEW KEURIG and watching Moots eat sticks in the yard. Perfect Saturday, am I right? The little things.
Kemper had to go to a funeral in Montreal (this guy deals with more than I can even fathom) and so I get to watch Moots man allllllll weekend long. I like to think he views me as his really cool, hip step-mom who doesn’t mess around. He is the most BEAUTIFUL Bernese mountain dog/great Pyrenees mix that I have ever seen and he loves to eat sticks and paw your face (with his lion size 30 pound foot) when he wants to play. I love him a lot.
We are going to go on a walk soon (he doesn’t even need a leash, y’all!) and then I have to spend my Saturday grading papers and lesson planning. Oh, the woes of being a first year English teacher. My fella comes home tomorrow and I couldn’t be more excited.
Lately I have been venturing up to Vail quite often. Nothing makes me feel better deep down in my soul than mountain air. It makes me feel goodness down in my bones. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever feel ready to leave these Rocky Mountains.
I have also recently learned to flyfish and I am pretty in love with it. I’ll keep you posted when I finally catch my first troutymouth!
"Sometimes the easiest answer to our difficulties is not so much to get outside ourselves as to simply get ourselves outside."
Life is not something that “has” meaning - it’s something we give meaning to. You don’t “end up” with a meaningful life, you create it.