You guys remember Preston, right? We wrote letters last year, and between the time zones, the words, the Skype, and the way of things, something kind of amazing has happened. Is happening.
I’m not going to say much more, right now, because I blush furiously when I try to talk about this person, and I get tongue tied, and my heart decides to practice for a marathon, and I can’t stop smiling. You kind of get the picture.
But today, I wrote something over at his space and well, I’d love for you to read it? You can click here.
When your father is crying on the morning drive to school and whispers that Granddad died in his sleep the night before, you don’t eat the whole day.
You don’t eat anything in seat 48H on Virgin Atlantic, except the chocolate pudding, and you have two helpings of that, and return to your books. You read the words over and over but they’re swimming in front of your eyes, and the turbulence outside is nothing to what’s raging in your heart.
Keep reading, over here?
P.S. In case you didn’t know, Preston is pretty amazing. I still can’t quite believe the story of us. But here I go, blushing. But he is. Amazing. And I am a really lucky girl.