Anna Rae Gwarjanski Portfolio |
I hate the month of April. As soon as April 1 rolls around, I feel myself tense up. My shoulders seem stuck around my ears. My jaw is permanently clenched. For 30 days, I’m afraid; past experience tells me to stay prepared for some sort of tragedy. I always breathe a sigh of relief as the calendar turns to May.
But, if there’s one thing April 27, 2011, and April 28, 2014, have taught me, it’s that life is short — too short to spend it without the people (or person, in this case) you love. Which is why I’m moving to North Dakota at the end of this month. If you would have told me five years ago — or even last year, to be honest — that I’d be quitting my job, leaving my rugby team, and moving 1,253.5 miles (literally) for a man, I would have straight up called you a liar. Even now, sometimes the feminist inside me cringes when I think about what I’m doing. But, my 2017 mission has been to listen to my insides and do whatever gives me peace. And, every time I think about being with Craig, I feel peace like I’ve never known. For too long, I’ve held my heart away from the edge. As far back as I can remember, my signature move has been to sprint headfirst into things, ready to leap, then pull back, frantically skidding, at the last second when I see how deep the canyon really is. This time, I’m jumping. Because I know he’s going to hold my hand on the way down. Because I’m so in love it’s disgusting. Because I’ve found the guy I want to buy rocking chairs with in 50 years. Because he’s made me rethink everything I’ve ever wanted. Because, as that Gladys Knight song goes, I’d rather live in his world than live without him in mine. I was born with fire under my feet and a wandering, restless heart. I’m one of the searchers, as James Kavanaugh put it, always hoping to discover, to touch and to understand. Part of what I’ve always been looking for is a place that feels like home. And now, I’ve found it; it’s him. I’ve witnessed too much loss to ever take that for granted, so, now that my compass is pointing North, that’s where I’m headed. And I couldn’t be happier.
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About the AuthorConfessions of a failed southern lady. I've got messy hair and a thirsty heart. Writer, photographer, career wanderer. Archives
May 2023
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