Smiling to herself as she sat at the table waiting for him to bring back the drinks. She relaxed back in her chair and gazed out of the window to the cold June day that caused the trees to dance wildy in the wind. She thought about what she had learned, who she once was and who she had now become. She now had a job that she loved, wonderful people whom she knew so true and felt confident within herself to reach for what she wanted.
She was a woman who made mistakes, who sometimes cried on a Monday morning or at night alone in bed. She was a woman who often became bored with her life and found it hard to get up for work. She was a woman who more often than not had a bad hair day, who looked in the mirror and wondered why she couldn't just drag herself to the gym; she was a woman who sometimes questioned what reason had she to live on this planet. She was a woman who sometimes just got things wrong.
On the other hand, she was a woman with a million happy memories, who knew what it was like to experience true love and who was ready to experience more life, more love and make new memories. Whether it happened in ten months or ten years, she would just obey the final message. Whatever lay ahead, she knew she would open her heart and follow where it led her.
Perhaps it's because I'm a Sagittarius, but I've always felt like my emotions swing extremes. Take, for example, my self-belief. Some days I feel so confident Mount Everest looks like a mere hump in the road. Other days, every molehill is a mountain. Back when I was still studying, I generally feel pretty secure about myself, even when harbouring infatuation toward males whose hormones were bouncing off the walls. I soldiered on through primary and secondary school years, having serial crushes. In all cases, I had qualms about making the first move.
After a few failed romantic sorties, self-doubt resurfaced with a vengeance. Depending on the time of day, and whether I was PMS-ing, my thoughts ranged from, "Of course there's someone out there for me!" to "It's not me, it's them" to "So I'll just be one of those cool single women. Dogs make pretty good pets anyway." I found myself daunting that often-smug entity known as(no matter loving or not) couple. See, the notion of needing and depending on someone else has always turned me off.
I hate admitting this, but those mouthing-enigmas-of-life-to-myself, rah-rah-ing I've done before the mirror and the "You go, girl!" books I've just about memorised, is rather self-doubting and traumatic at times.