I've been thinking...

...and I think that I am ready to fall in love again.
With a soft spoken tradesman with grey at his temples and laugh lines. Or perhaps an author who weaves stories that tug at heart strings and fills the reader with wonder. Maybe a young farmer who will teach me things about bits and bridles and mending fences. Someone who will sit by fires on rainy sunday afternoons with cups of tea and my head in his lap.
Barney Snaith.
My last round at love was painful and rough, and left a few abrasions on my heart. Three years and now, and the scabs have finally healed over. It took this long simply because of neglect. Superstition never healed anything. Talking yourself down perhaps helps with the panic, but not the pain. And distraction is only temporary. Open festering sores need balms and fresh fine linens to bind them up. So now my heart is fresh and pink with only a few scars, and even those disappear with time.
Now I crave that warm feeling on the underside of your soul, and the thrill of anticipating that first kiss. The comfort of walking down autumn streets arm in arm with rosy cheeks.
It's nice to revive this old-soul romantic in me. I think that thanks is mostly due to Laura Ingalls Wilder, who has written books that everyone ought read in both their childhood and adulthood. I will give props to L.M. Montgomery who also wrote The Blue Castle, which in my estimation is what every girl really wants.