Have you ever noticed that one bad thing sticks out much more than one good thing?
One bad thing can ruin a whole lot of good things. It doesn't seem equal.
My wise man once described it to be thus: Imagine that you're eating a handful of peanuts. In that handful of delightful peanuts there is one rancid nut. When you pop the whole handful into your mouth, that one nut will spoil the whole lot.
Conversely if you have a handful of rancid nuts and there is one solitary good one (or even 5!) you won't notice it at all. You will notice the nasty taste and nothing more.
Why is that the case? It carries through life as well. Even if you're trying to look for the good and focus on the positive, one bad peanut can spoil your day!
In an ideal day of friendship, walks and board games, one wrong comment can make me feel like the day was a bummer.
Why are we so prone to noticing the hardships and trials and things that go wrong in life?
One bad peanut can spoil the lot of good.
I Resolve
If people make New Year's resolutions they probably will have given them up by now.
My theory is that people make unrealistic expectations of themselves and when they fail they feel bad and give up trying.
I should know. I'm part of the human race, too.
In college, there were a few different ways teachers assigned work. One syllabus had scheduled readings and papers due specific days and that was that. One teacher had specific readings and quizzes... but you didn't have to do them when they were scheduled for. You just had to fit them in by the end of term, so if you wanted to sit down and take the quizzes for every single day of class, ALL on the last day, you could do that. (I have no idea how the teacher managed his grading).
Then there was a teacher who had specific readings due for every class, and of those readings you had to choose 5 of them and do article reviews. You choice which articles struck your fancy.
What struck mine was that I could do the first 5 articles and be done writing for the term!
I'm a procrastinator. I totally am. So when that first article was due... I set to work. The night before.
As often as I can, I wait for the last moment to do a thing. But I have realized that when I am in control of my own timing on a thing it's an easier task to accomplish. But I have to have some structure or I flounder. So, teacher a, the strict syllabus was kinda a bummer to follow. I just did the readings or papers at the last second. Teacher b, just hand it all in by the end of term, was horrible! Because if everything can be due the last day, I would try to fulfill ALL the assignments at the last minute. Horrible.
Teacher c, assignments every class, but you pick when to write, worked phenomenally well for me!
Because I thrive on freedom with structure! I am still a procrastinator, but maybe because of that, I enjoy getting things done early.
So, back to the New Years resolutions. I like setting myself tasks for the year. They have to be challenging and achievable. And there are no shortcuts or getting around a thing.
If I said that I was going to run a mile every day, that would be really hard for me to follow through with. What if I got sick? (Which I did, for like the first 3 weeks of January!) No shortcuts. I would have to run, and if I didn't I would consider that resolution failed and I'd give it up. If I told myself I was going to run 365 miles in a year, I might end up leaving it until December and then realize that I have a lot to catch up on. But! If I said I was going to run 31 miles in January, and 28 in February and so on. If I only managed 15 in January due to illness, the year would not be over. I'd set out with a renewed focus to attain my goal for February.
I did not set myself a running goal this year. I only thought of resolutions at the end of December and I had a high fever so running was the last thing on my mind.
I set myself a reading and writing goal. One of the reasons these are completely attainable for me is because no matter how late I go to bed, I can still read and write. If I were heading to bed at 1am and hadn't run it would be nearly impossible to get me into running clothes and outside, especially in January.
My strategy is to put things on my pillow. Yes, I can move them without doing them, but that's not the point. It's a reminder.
In the morning, I make my bed and set my copy of the Word and my journal on my pillow. Usually I get my coffee and come back upstairs to read and then to write. But if meetings or other things drag me away, whenever I come in to my room I see my goals waiting for me. When I complete the task it gets moved from my pillow to my bedside table so that I know that I did it for the day.
In case anyone cares, my specific goal is two chapters of the Word a day and writing two pages by hand every day. I have a broader goal of creativity twice a month, which is quite broad indeed, but I know what I mean. Ask me if you like. A broader goal like this allows me the flexibility of choosing when in the month I complete a task and what exactly I do. If it were my only resolution I would not like it. It would be too ill-defined but because I have other daily goals it's kinda just another step.
I also like having some monthly goals like inktober or nanowrimo, or my made up September painting month. Not sure what I'll do this year, but we'll see!
For now, those two books are still sitting on my pillow and I want to get back to them before the day gets away from me.
My theory is that people make unrealistic expectations of themselves and when they fail they feel bad and give up trying.
I should know. I'm part of the human race, too.
In college, there were a few different ways teachers assigned work. One syllabus had scheduled readings and papers due specific days and that was that. One teacher had specific readings and quizzes... but you didn't have to do them when they were scheduled for. You just had to fit them in by the end of term, so if you wanted to sit down and take the quizzes for every single day of class, ALL on the last day, you could do that. (I have no idea how the teacher managed his grading).
Then there was a teacher who had specific readings due for every class, and of those readings you had to choose 5 of them and do article reviews. You choice which articles struck your fancy.
What struck mine was that I could do the first 5 articles and be done writing for the term!
I'm a procrastinator. I totally am. So when that first article was due... I set to work. The night before.
As often as I can, I wait for the last moment to do a thing. But I have realized that when I am in control of my own timing on a thing it's an easier task to accomplish. But I have to have some structure or I flounder. So, teacher a, the strict syllabus was kinda a bummer to follow. I just did the readings or papers at the last second. Teacher b, just hand it all in by the end of term, was horrible! Because if everything can be due the last day, I would try to fulfill ALL the assignments at the last minute. Horrible.
Teacher c, assignments every class, but you pick when to write, worked phenomenally well for me!
Because I thrive on freedom with structure! I am still a procrastinator, but maybe because of that, I enjoy getting things done early.
So, back to the New Years resolutions. I like setting myself tasks for the year. They have to be challenging and achievable. And there are no shortcuts or getting around a thing.
If I said that I was going to run a mile every day, that would be really hard for me to follow through with. What if I got sick? (Which I did, for like the first 3 weeks of January!) No shortcuts. I would have to run, and if I didn't I would consider that resolution failed and I'd give it up. If I told myself I was going to run 365 miles in a year, I might end up leaving it until December and then realize that I have a lot to catch up on. But! If I said I was going to run 31 miles in January, and 28 in February and so on. If I only managed 15 in January due to illness, the year would not be over. I'd set out with a renewed focus to attain my goal for February.
I did not set myself a running goal this year. I only thought of resolutions at the end of December and I had a high fever so running was the last thing on my mind.
I set myself a reading and writing goal. One of the reasons these are completely attainable for me is because no matter how late I go to bed, I can still read and write. If I were heading to bed at 1am and hadn't run it would be nearly impossible to get me into running clothes and outside, especially in January.
My strategy is to put things on my pillow. Yes, I can move them without doing them, but that's not the point. It's a reminder.
In the morning, I make my bed and set my copy of the Word and my journal on my pillow. Usually I get my coffee and come back upstairs to read and then to write. But if meetings or other things drag me away, whenever I come in to my room I see my goals waiting for me. When I complete the task it gets moved from my pillow to my bedside table so that I know that I did it for the day.
In case anyone cares, my specific goal is two chapters of the Word a day and writing two pages by hand every day. I have a broader goal of creativity twice a month, which is quite broad indeed, but I know what I mean. Ask me if you like. A broader goal like this allows me the flexibility of choosing when in the month I complete a task and what exactly I do. If it were my only resolution I would not like it. It would be too ill-defined but because I have other daily goals it's kinda just another step.
I also like having some monthly goals like inktober or nanowrimo, or my made up September painting month. Not sure what I'll do this year, but we'll see!
For now, those two books are still sitting on my pillow and I want to get back to them before the day gets away from me.
Brain Barfs and First Draft Drivels.
It is so much easier to write than to edit. Let me tell you! That’s why I love my blog. Pouring out random, unfiltered thoughts, and occasionally glancing over for typos but never thinking about structure and how it all flows.
Nope! You just get free flowing brain barf all over the blogosphere. I occasionally check a word to double check that I’m using it right. Like just now I knew ‘blogosphere’ was the wrong word, but I don’t care, because the whole point of this blog post is that I don’t care if it’s beautifully crafted or not.
That isn’t to say that I don’t care about the craft of writing, because I do. I really do, which is why I sometimes take the time to carefully craft an article or a post to perfection,
But perfection has long stopped me from writing at all. “I can’t share my mindless brain barf because it’s not good enough.”
Not good enough is a definite theme. This blog is inspiring me to embrace the crazy and not need perfection every time. I can write crap and be okay with it.
But this entire post is just to distract myself from writing and editing an article I’m supposed to be writing. Darn the editing. It’s making me sad.
Back to first draft drivel.
Nope! You just get free flowing brain barf all over the blogosphere. I occasionally check a word to double check that I’m using it right. Like just now I knew ‘blogosphere’ was the wrong word, but I don’t care, because the whole point of this blog post is that I don’t care if it’s beautifully crafted or not.
That isn’t to say that I don’t care about the craft of writing, because I do. I really do, which is why I sometimes take the time to carefully craft an article or a post to perfection,
But perfection has long stopped me from writing at all. “I can’t share my mindless brain barf because it’s not good enough.”
Not good enough is a definite theme. This blog is inspiring me to embrace the crazy and not need perfection every time. I can write crap and be okay with it.
But this entire post is just to distract myself from writing and editing an article I’m supposed to be writing. Darn the editing. It’s making me sad.
Back to first draft drivel.
The Living Word
When I read the Word, often my eyes will scan the page and my brain will comprehend nothing. But I do it because I know that my heart is picking up things, and I am forming a habit even if I don't hear what I am reading.
I think it would be powerful to have things jumping out at me every time I open the Word, but that's just not always the case. I'm sure it has a lot to do with my state at the time of reading. Sometimes my eyes are reading along and I alight on a familiar verse and my brain stirs and I am paying attention. Sometimes only for that verse. It's interesting because reading through, it's like the words are highlighted (I never highlight or mark up my devotional copy of the Word).
But it is interesting that the same verse can pop up time after time and just get more engrained in my brain. I have zero objections to this. Verses from the Word being engrained in my brain is a wonderful thing. But I do feel bad for the neglected verses. I want to be better at paying attention to the words I am reading.
Sometimes an entire story is familiar and I am reading along looking for those loved verses, waiting for them to hit my heart and inspire me once again.
Sometimes just the act of opening the Word and reading inspires tears, whether I am understanding or paying attention or not.
But today, I was reading a familiar and well loved story, looking for those passages that strike my heart, when a different passage jumped out at me and I stopped. I stopped to read it again, to wonder at it's significance this morning.
"And the man marveling at her was silent, to know whether Jehovah had prospered his way or not." Genesis 24:21
Maybe the significance of this verse is obvious to you at once. And maybe there doesn't seem to be anything particularly special about it. And that is the beauty of the Word. It is a Living Thing, and people see different sides of it and it strikes different people at different times.
I didn't immediately recognize it as a heart stopping verse. It's not a particularly familiar one, like others in this chapter, or so many only two chapters earlier.
But it is significant to me now. Partly because it jumped out at me. I always love it when a verse jumps out at me and I am not immediately struck by why it did. It feels like a calling. The Lord is calling out to me with a verse. But when I am reading and see a verse that applies to my current state and I immediately see it's significance it feels like I am seeing the Lord.
Let me reiterate that more clearly:
When I am reading and pick out a verse because I see its implications I feel like I am seeing the Lord.
When I am reading and a verse jumps out at me it feels like the Lord is seeing me. He is gently nudging me in a direction by bringing a verse to my attention.
So back to the verse: "And the man marveling at her was silent, to know whether Jehovah had prospered his way or not."
Again, maybe this is obvious, but it's calling to me is one of peace. When I am wondering whether or not Jehovah has prospered my way, I often feel anxiety. When will I know whether or not this is the Lord's will? What am I supposed to be doing here? What does the Lord want me to do?!
"And the man marveling at her was silent."
Patience, Alison. Just wait. Marvel in Jehovah's workings in your life. He is working, for sure. Be calm. Be silent. Wait for the salvation of Jehovah. Be still.
I think it would be powerful to have things jumping out at me every time I open the Word, but that's just not always the case. I'm sure it has a lot to do with my state at the time of reading. Sometimes my eyes are reading along and I alight on a familiar verse and my brain stirs and I am paying attention. Sometimes only for that verse. It's interesting because reading through, it's like the words are highlighted (I never highlight or mark up my devotional copy of the Word).
But it is interesting that the same verse can pop up time after time and just get more engrained in my brain. I have zero objections to this. Verses from the Word being engrained in my brain is a wonderful thing. But I do feel bad for the neglected verses. I want to be better at paying attention to the words I am reading.
Sometimes an entire story is familiar and I am reading along looking for those loved verses, waiting for them to hit my heart and inspire me once again.
Sometimes just the act of opening the Word and reading inspires tears, whether I am understanding or paying attention or not.
But today, I was reading a familiar and well loved story, looking for those passages that strike my heart, when a different passage jumped out at me and I stopped. I stopped to read it again, to wonder at it's significance this morning.
"And the man marveling at her was silent, to know whether Jehovah had prospered his way or not." Genesis 24:21
Maybe the significance of this verse is obvious to you at once. And maybe there doesn't seem to be anything particularly special about it. And that is the beauty of the Word. It is a Living Thing, and people see different sides of it and it strikes different people at different times.
I didn't immediately recognize it as a heart stopping verse. It's not a particularly familiar one, like others in this chapter, or so many only two chapters earlier.
But it is significant to me now. Partly because it jumped out at me. I always love it when a verse jumps out at me and I am not immediately struck by why it did. It feels like a calling. The Lord is calling out to me with a verse. But when I am reading and see a verse that applies to my current state and I immediately see it's significance it feels like I am seeing the Lord.
Let me reiterate that more clearly:
When I am reading and pick out a verse because I see its implications I feel like I am seeing the Lord.
When I am reading and a verse jumps out at me it feels like the Lord is seeing me. He is gently nudging me in a direction by bringing a verse to my attention.
So back to the verse: "And the man marveling at her was silent, to know whether Jehovah had prospered his way or not."
Again, maybe this is obvious, but it's calling to me is one of peace. When I am wondering whether or not Jehovah has prospered my way, I often feel anxiety. When will I know whether or not this is the Lord's will? What am I supposed to be doing here? What does the Lord want me to do?!
"And the man marveling at her was silent."
Patience, Alison. Just wait. Marvel in Jehovah's workings in your life. He is working, for sure. Be calm. Be silent. Wait for the salvation of Jehovah. Be still.
How To Deal With A Difficult Nalison: a useless instruction manual.
Sometimes I'm afraid of admitting a solution to something for fear that someone will throw it in my face when all I want to do is complain.
I probably complain too much, but sometimes you gotta vent. And I when I want to vent I'm not looking for solutions. I'm not looking for advice, I just want to be acknowledged. I want someone to realize that I'm having a tough time.
I have a lot of nieces, so you won't know who I'm talking about. But recently one of my nieces was worrying about her alarm not going off, not waking up in time, not being ready and she was concerned.
It was obvious to any adult that these were not as life threatening as she thought them. An adult can recognize that she was tired and just needed to go to sleep and everything would be better. Said child was reassured that it was going to be okay. They would wake her up. She wouldn't miss anything. Nothing that awful was going to happen. But she was sure the world was ending.
But you know what? I so relate. I am a little older than my niece. While others might recognize sooner than I what my problem is, I often recognize it too. But I don't want to admit it.
I start feeling sullen and upset and I realize that I didn't eat breakfast, or lunch. I am hangry. Someone else might realize this, but a wise person would not suggest "Hey, Alison, when was the last time you ate something?" because they might get their fingers bitten off.
I was sick for the second half of December until nowish. Still recovering. Been so exhausted and had no energy to do anything. Not moving, not doing anything is a perfect recipe for feeling like utter crap. Physically and emotionally.
A smart person might realize that I need to get out on a walk, or listen to music, or any number of things. A wise person would not suggest this for fear of getting yelled at.
So, if a Nalison is being difficult, what IS the proper procedure?
Well, if I told you, you'd probably suggest it to me when I was upset and then I'd be furious at you and then I'd just feel worse for being mad and for snapping at you.
Sometimes I need food, sometimes I need music, sometimes I need walks and dancing, and I always need hugs. I want to feel heard. I want my feelings listened to, not dismissed.
This blog post has probably come across as a whiny self-serving post, and it probably isn't even serving me that well. Cause you know what? When you friend is being a jerk you DO just want to say "Shut up and get over yourself!" When your child is crying over spilled milk, or faulty alarm clocks, you are fairly justified in telling them that they don't get to whine about it. I'm not criticizing the parent who tells their kid to get over something trivial.
I think that my point is that even if you can see that something is trivial, it doesn't feel trivial in the moment, to the child or to the thirty year old woman.
I probably complain too much, but sometimes you gotta vent. And I when I want to vent I'm not looking for solutions. I'm not looking for advice, I just want to be acknowledged. I want someone to realize that I'm having a tough time.
I have a lot of nieces, so you won't know who I'm talking about. But recently one of my nieces was worrying about her alarm not going off, not waking up in time, not being ready and she was concerned.
It was obvious to any adult that these were not as life threatening as she thought them. An adult can recognize that she was tired and just needed to go to sleep and everything would be better. Said child was reassured that it was going to be okay. They would wake her up. She wouldn't miss anything. Nothing that awful was going to happen. But she was sure the world was ending.
But you know what? I so relate. I am a little older than my niece. While others might recognize sooner than I what my problem is, I often recognize it too. But I don't want to admit it.
I start feeling sullen and upset and I realize that I didn't eat breakfast, or lunch. I am hangry. Someone else might realize this, but a wise person would not suggest "Hey, Alison, when was the last time you ate something?" because they might get their fingers bitten off.
I was sick for the second half of December until nowish. Still recovering. Been so exhausted and had no energy to do anything. Not moving, not doing anything is a perfect recipe for feeling like utter crap. Physically and emotionally.
A smart person might realize that I need to get out on a walk, or listen to music, or any number of things. A wise person would not suggest this for fear of getting yelled at.
So, if a Nalison is being difficult, what IS the proper procedure?
Well, if I told you, you'd probably suggest it to me when I was upset and then I'd be furious at you and then I'd just feel worse for being mad and for snapping at you.
Sometimes I need food, sometimes I need music, sometimes I need walks and dancing, and I always need hugs. I want to feel heard. I want my feelings listened to, not dismissed.
This blog post has probably come across as a whiny self-serving post, and it probably isn't even serving me that well. Cause you know what? When you friend is being a jerk you DO just want to say "Shut up and get over yourself!" When your child is crying over spilled milk, or faulty alarm clocks, you are fairly justified in telling them that they don't get to whine about it. I'm not criticizing the parent who tells their kid to get over something trivial.
I think that my point is that even if you can see that something is trivial, it doesn't feel trivial in the moment, to the child or to the thirty year old woman.
Hockey Skates
I knew he didn't like hockey, but I never understood why. I loved everything to do with winter, especially if it meant engaging with the elements to the fullest.
Cold? Why not freezing? So when it came time to don the old ice skates and hit the pond I was thrilled.
We were bundled up and heading for the car when he stopped halfway down the driveway.
"What is it? Did you forget something?" I asked, hardly taking the time to turn back over my shoulder to speak. I had my skates in one hand and my keys in the other. I was anxious to get going. I unlocked the car with a few excited beeps and hustled into the car throwing my skates on the back seat. Laif hadn't moved from his spot. This was unusual. I started the car to get it warming and poked my head out the still open door.
"Are you coming? What's going on?" He jolted as if he had been asleep and ambled toward my blue sedan.
Slowly he got into the car.
"Are you not feeling well?" I asked. "We don't have to go," I told him, my heart sinking at the thought of not making it to the ice tonight.
He shook his head. "I'm fine." He didn't sound it. I hesitated with my hand on the gear shift.
"What's going on then, Laif?" I asked again. "You seemed fine a moment ago."
"Natalie," he began as if he hadn't even been listening to me. I waited. "Natalie," he said again. Slowly, looking at his knees.
"Yes?"
"I told you about Mar, right?" He was still staring at his knees, fumbling with his gloves.
Mar? Mar? I was racking my brain for something.
"I don't think so. Remind me."
He looked up slowly to meet my gaze, but only held it for a split second. I think he has only looked to see that I was truly not following him.
"Marta?" he said, half a question.
I shook my head. I couldn't tell if he was really upset about something, but he seemed off. I couldn't pull out of the driveway without checking what was up.
"Can this wait?" I asked, anxious not to be late. Everyone would be there already and have picked teams if we didn't leave soon.
"Sure," he mumbled. I gave him a hesitant look before pulling on my seatbelt and looking over my shoulder to back down the driveway.
I glanced over at him a few times as I drove. He sat there silently. I was really torn now between hockey and my boyfriend. Something was wrong. He was never this quiet.
"Are you sure you're alright?" I asked.
"I'm sure I'm not," he finally admitted.
I was exasperated now. Was he wanting to talk or not? If he wanted to talk he needed to just say it and stop being mysterious. Should I pull over or keep driving? Was he just gonna sulk the whole drive? The whole time we were out on the ice?
"Are you feeling sick?" I asked. I'd rather deal with a sick boyfriend than whatever he was doing right now!
He looked over at me and then back at his knees.
"I'm not sick," he said. "Just... upset."
I was starting to get worried now. What on earth was his problem? Doubt and fear started to flood over me. I could feel the burning cold sensation on the back of my neck.
He was about to break up with me, I was sure of it. I pulled over into an empty parking lot, trying not to let myself get carried away before he'd even said anything, but my mind was racing now.
Had he ever mentioned a Marta to me? Was this someone he has met recently? Was I about to be replaced? A lump was forming in my throat as I feared what he was going to say next.
"You don't have to pull over," he told me.
I was having trouble speaking at this point, but despite the lump in my throat I mumbled that I thought this would be better. But he didn't speak and nor did I.
He continued to look at his jeans, unsure how to continue I guess. So I gave him a prompt.
"Who is Marta?" I asked, my heart squirming with the fear of what he would say. When he still didn't answer I added, "Have I met her?"
"No," he said. "You haven't."
"Okay?" I was completely lost and getting very worried at this point. He was about to tell me that he cheated on me. I was having trouble keeping calm. I was sure that he would soon be able to hear my heart beating out of my chest.
"And you won't meet her," he continued. "She's dead."
Cold? Why not freezing? So when it came time to don the old ice skates and hit the pond I was thrilled.
We were bundled up and heading for the car when he stopped halfway down the driveway.
"What is it? Did you forget something?" I asked, hardly taking the time to turn back over my shoulder to speak. I had my skates in one hand and my keys in the other. I was anxious to get going. I unlocked the car with a few excited beeps and hustled into the car throwing my skates on the back seat. Laif hadn't moved from his spot. This was unusual. I started the car to get it warming and poked my head out the still open door.
"Are you coming? What's going on?" He jolted as if he had been asleep and ambled toward my blue sedan.
Slowly he got into the car.
"Are you not feeling well?" I asked. "We don't have to go," I told him, my heart sinking at the thought of not making it to the ice tonight.
He shook his head. "I'm fine." He didn't sound it. I hesitated with my hand on the gear shift.
"What's going on then, Laif?" I asked again. "You seemed fine a moment ago."
"Natalie," he began as if he hadn't even been listening to me. I waited. "Natalie," he said again. Slowly, looking at his knees.
"Yes?"
"I told you about Mar, right?" He was still staring at his knees, fumbling with his gloves.
Mar? Mar? I was racking my brain for something.
"I don't think so. Remind me."
He looked up slowly to meet my gaze, but only held it for a split second. I think he has only looked to see that I was truly not following him.
"Marta?" he said, half a question.
I shook my head. I couldn't tell if he was really upset about something, but he seemed off. I couldn't pull out of the driveway without checking what was up.
"Can this wait?" I asked, anxious not to be late. Everyone would be there already and have picked teams if we didn't leave soon.
"Sure," he mumbled. I gave him a hesitant look before pulling on my seatbelt and looking over my shoulder to back down the driveway.
I glanced over at him a few times as I drove. He sat there silently. I was really torn now between hockey and my boyfriend. Something was wrong. He was never this quiet.
"Are you sure you're alright?" I asked.
"I'm sure I'm not," he finally admitted.
I was exasperated now. Was he wanting to talk or not? If he wanted to talk he needed to just say it and stop being mysterious. Should I pull over or keep driving? Was he just gonna sulk the whole drive? The whole time we were out on the ice?
"Are you feeling sick?" I asked. I'd rather deal with a sick boyfriend than whatever he was doing right now!
He looked over at me and then back at his knees.
"I'm not sick," he said. "Just... upset."
I was starting to get worried now. What on earth was his problem? Doubt and fear started to flood over me. I could feel the burning cold sensation on the back of my neck.
He was about to break up with me, I was sure of it. I pulled over into an empty parking lot, trying not to let myself get carried away before he'd even said anything, but my mind was racing now.
Had he ever mentioned a Marta to me? Was this someone he has met recently? Was I about to be replaced? A lump was forming in my throat as I feared what he was going to say next.
"You don't have to pull over," he told me.
I was having trouble speaking at this point, but despite the lump in my throat I mumbled that I thought this would be better. But he didn't speak and nor did I.
He continued to look at his jeans, unsure how to continue I guess. So I gave him a prompt.
"Who is Marta?" I asked, my heart squirming with the fear of what he would say. When he still didn't answer I added, "Have I met her?"
"No," he said. "You haven't."
"Okay?" I was completely lost and getting very worried at this point. He was about to tell me that he cheated on me. I was having trouble keeping calm. I was sure that he would soon be able to hear my heart beating out of my chest.
"And you won't meet her," he continued. "She's dead."
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