if there’s one thing i’ve felt in the last three (going on four! agh!) weeks of living out of my suitcase, it’s that sort of shock when strangers at a new bus stop talk to you attentively for 30 minutes (no interruptions, no place to go but there, always eye contact), then make sure to give you a bear hug + compliment your name before parting ways.
it’s that sort of amazement when you get to know your new step-sister’s favorite things and see the city of philadelphia from her sunglass lenses. or what makes your nephew giggle (elmo ipad apps + repetition + fountains)
it’s that grin your brother gets on his face when eddie money drunkenly sings “two tickets to paradise”. and even though this is the forty-millionth time he’s heard that song, it still cracks him up. but then again, that could have been the guy next to us at the concert, who wore a man-tank + a trucker hat that had a scraggly rat-tail peek out the back. yes, it was most likely that.
it’s fresh bagels served by grandmas with booming accents in medford. gosh darn it, those bagels. and those grandmas.
it’s that nice little type of love that only happens when every day is a big, yellow, shining “yes”.
and this is my wee little hope that if you are truly needing love (a song worth the 30-second commercial, promise) that you get to feel it real, real intensely very, very soon.
because i sure have, lately.