1 He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
2 But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
3 It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
4 Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
5 Who is already sick and pale with grief,
6 That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. – Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”
Call me canned, but I couldn’t think of a damn think to write about this. That’s not true. I thought of a couple things. Love, being in love, scars, and how we all have them, figuratively. That the world goes round and round at different paces as we move through life. Karma. How I hope that I will get over the illogical fear of everyone that I love dying because I lost someone close to me. But that is a scar I have to tend to.
On the topic of love, I received a wedding invitation from my Ex’s nephew who is getting married next month. To go or not to go, that is the question. My boyfriend’s dad will remarry for the 7th or 8th time at the beginning of next month. I’m not going, since I’m supposed to go back to work that week. Me, I’m pretty frickin in love and not getting married any time soon.