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Diary of a Cracked Metaphor: Chapter Three

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Cake tasting.

This was definitely the highlight of the day. I know I’m in for a rude awakening heading into a marriage, but being engaged and planning a wedding is a hard thing also.

I went into this engagement making promises to myself that it would be stress-free, and now I’m not so sure that’s possible. Especially for two people who suffer from anxiety. And special thanks to a national pandemic blown out of proportion.

Anyways, it’s still fun. It’s like falling in love all over again, doing something as simple as tasting cake and deciding together what our guests will be scrumptiously enjoying as they celebrate us.

The amazing thing about taking a few minutes to sit down and write is getting to remember the moments and feelings of what made your day that exact day. Sometimes we forget all the little things that made us happy in a glimpse and then it’s just gone forever.

I want to be able to look back and actually see it, feel it all over again.

My fiancé just texted me a memory video from last summer and it brought back all of those feelings I had somehow forgotten. The smells from Fenway Park, the heat from hiking in the Smokies, the sounds and feel of the wind whipping through us at the Boston Harbor, the taste of Wahlburgers.

In the rough times, that’s sometimes all you need; a reminder that you are fortunate enough to have someone love you through all the everyday shit and not every day is going to be rough.

Choose to be happy. Pick just one thing out of your day that made you feel worthy and elated, and roll with it.

I have been stuck in a blah mood. I’ve also had vertigo for two weeks; not a great combination. It also makes it hard to differentiate between a physical ailment and a mental one, maybe one happening because of the other. Yikes.

I have been trying to get into reading again. I don’t know what it is about the end of summer, maybe I love that fall is coming, which is my favorite season. Cozying up with a cup of tea and a book, feet reclined, blanket sprawled out and pups cuddled up next to you. Now that’s my idea of a perfect Sunday.

Writing topics can vary based on your mood, of course. Some days hurt; write it down. Some days are happy; write it down. Some days are boring; write it down. Would writers’ block exist if we just constantly wrote down everything we feel as we felt it?

The state of exile is not for us.

Social distance. Six feet apart. Airplanes.

After three canceled trips this year due to COVID, we are finally taking a flight somewhere fields of dreams exist: Napa. Sonoma. Wine Country. “Wine is bottled poetry.”

I am not particularly fond of having to wear a face mask for the duration of an entire flight. High Anxiety Alert. However, we are fortunate enough to be able to just go somewhere during this season of uncertainty.

Traveling feeds my soul, and I’m hungry. I love traveling with my fiancé. We have the best of times and are obsessed without moments of bonding outside of our routine of everyday life. Highly recommended for all couples to take as many trips as your schedule and budget allows, even if they are quick, short distance weekend trips.

Writing is therapeutic. It’s a way for me to get out everything I want to say and be heard; a lot of people read, but very few actually listen. A raw, honest expression of just a fraction of how I feel.

You know you’re living right when the good days outweigh the bad without force.

Sonoma and Napa really are a dream. Trips are the poetry of life. If you’re not traveling, you’re not truly living. I am so thankful I found someone who wants to see the world as much as I do.

This trip was amazing. Learning about wine is a special venture. The patience, the elegance, the science behind a bottle you pull off a shelf in the store is beyond us.

Now I understand why it’s called wine country. It seems like endless miles of wineries and vineyards. Gorgeous fields of green and gold every turn.

Unfortunately, on top of this pandemic, there are also wildfires affecting the air quality up there. But no one seemed to care. Ashes fell like little flakes of snow on the tables of restaurants only allowing outdoor seating during this time as patrons enjoyed their glasses of vino. It’s fascinating the different states of normality that exist to each population around the world.

There still are beautiful things.

Krys Merryman is the author of ‘diary of a cracked metaphor,’ a series about having flaws but not being broken in a society that expects perfection, everyday survival, strength, dignity and unconditional love.

Click here to read more from “Diary of a Cracked Metaphor.”

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