I Hope Tomorrow Is Like Today

I love the smell of woodsmoke.
I love the crunch of leaves under my feet as I run.
I love that my ears and fingers turn red and cold.
I love the color.
I love the crispness of the stars at night,
followed by balmy days where girls (and some guys) still wander around in tank tops and shorts.
I love the promise of awaking to a blanket of snow, and watching my dog roll in ecstasy in the soft fluffy white flakes.
I love the anticipation of cruising down a mountain (only 2.5 months left), eyes watering, cheeks ruddy from cold and wind.
I love the fall.

The season of change- and this has been my year of change. A year ago I was heartbroken and withdrawn. I lacked self-confidence. I spent my days cowering in my room, afraid that everyone could see my pain and would mock me.
I am 35lbs lighter. I run regularly- it is my time for meditation, contemplation of my day. I can no longer eat an entire bag of candy without becoming sick, although sometimes it makes me run faster/harder because I know I've messed up. On occasion, I feel beautiful. I am happier, somewhat more outgoing. I am an entirely different person, but very much so the same.

I am still painfully shy, but slowly getting better. I wish I was less inhibited (even when I'm drunk I still watch what I am saying- calculate the impact of my words). I don't know anything about flirting and have no idea that boys watch me, hit on me. I am still naive.

But I still love nothing more than curling up under your blankie and falling asleep to the sound of rain.