To try to write love is to confront the muck of language: that region of hysteria where language is both too much and too little, excessive and impoverished. (Roland Barthes)Word:
Bittersweet - containing a mixture of sadness and happiness
Today's prompts definitely put me in mind of when I lived briefly in Pennsylvania. I had just given up on pursuing a Master's Degree in Literature in Alaska, It was the death of my long-standing dream of becoming a professor, and for the first few months I mourned it in the worst way: with whiskey bottle and pot pipe. But moving to Pennsylvania turned me around. There was a wonderful woman there who took me in, and the love we shared made me strong enough to put the substances aside and get on with my life. I secured a position doing corporate sales for an inn near the Brandywine Valley, and though being a salesman has never been my dream job, I made the best of it. Meanwhile, I laid the plans for my next great adventure: teaching English as a Second Language in South Korea.
As the months passed and my departure date for Asia firmed up and approached, my lover was incredulous. We had a truly wonderful thing going between us, yet I was so eager to fly a world away? I was. I cannot explain it. It's not that I took my lover for granted... it's just that I had to go. Korea wound up giving me some of the best years of my life so far. But I've never found my way back to the Brandywine.