Falling in love with anything or anyone is the paradoxical dance that is as kismet as the stars that pop in the night sky, the single wildflower swaying in a field of weeds, and the cool breeze that blows on a hot summer day. Every moment leading up to it, less bright and picturesque, only emphasizes the beauty of the fall.
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I understand that in some stories I play a minor role. I understand in some I am a passing extra, or a main character, and sometimes I am the villain. I’m okay with all of those roles, but what worries me most is that my overall view of myself is inaccurate.