And if it's healthier to leave you be, may a sickness come over me. Kill me while I still believe that you were meant for me...

There was a time when class met beauty, and elegance was somewhere in the middle. And they all bonded together to form a certain propriety around which revolved life itself. I sometimes find myself wondering what those times were like, and wishing I could have been a part of such. It fascinates me to think that holding hands in public was nothing short of scandalous, and a woman with a mind was a danger. Indeed, it is those women who moved our world along, though I shudder to think how they would react if they saw how life is at present.

With that random thought aside, I have very good news. My heart is no longer heavy with the intense love I once felt for Blake. I will still hold him as my first love, but I have, at last, allowed myself to wake from the stupor of depression that bound me for so long. I once again feel the joy and warmth that comes with innocent flirting and casual, unbridled conversation. It is wonderful to once again feel capable of so much and to feel so alive. I have noticed that such a sensation only comes to me upon finding myself following a mourning, so to speak. Long bouts of depression often result in refreshing elation once they pass. It is nice to know there will always be a rainbow after the storms in my life.

I haven't much to say at this point, really. I'll try to be more regular with my entries, though my life is not exactly the most entertaining. Nevertheless, I will continue what I have begun. Hopefully a little excitement will come my way soon enough.