Do you ever wish that you could freeze frame a point in history, a memory, for the sake of remembering how you felt or the sweet fragrance of a room or a person? Seemingly perfect moments are fleeting, leaving you with an ounce of doubt, wondering if somehow a dream was so real that it was not a dream, but a completely beautiful picture of what you wish could and/or would be your forever. I think my middle name is fleeting, for my freeze frames are about to hit the limit-there will be a sequel-there must be..This story can not stop here. I live in a big screen, the characters of which are so unbelievably real to me. I know their personalities, what shampoos they use, every fleck of color in their eyes. I only wish they knew me back-I long for the company of the main character my opposite. It must be that time of the year...When the trees shed their spring greens for cozier frocks of red and orange and yellow, sometimes even plum colored sweaters. The air is chilled and one's heart longs for warmth. In my movie life nothing is to be desired-the snowflakes are perfect in shape and size, and the hot chocolate never scalds the tongue, I say exactly what I want to say exactly when I want to say it...The fights are bitter and the resolutions, sweet. In real life, I am just another 20-something longing to know and be known by her designated match in this game we call life. I hear it from every table of every coffee house from here to Texas...Friends surrounded by friends betrothed, in love, ready to embark to a new journey with someone who's hand they can hold whenever and where ever they please. For those of us who are still "free to be," the confusing, delightful, and challenging task at hand is to be satisfied, expectant, and carefree; But with the holidays approaching like a fast train, we feel a strange and new thing called being of age and alone. The arms of a parent no longer satisfy the craving for an uncertain attention. Eyes are open and hearts are delicate-not wanting for night after night of speed dating, but rather for that one person who seems to be nonexistent, but who is promised by an Unseen God to be under construction, being molded and refined, custom made and tailored to fit only me. I like the sound of that, but grow tired of those two highly annoying words, "Wait patiently." Time passes quickly. My curls are longer now. My nails are painted that of a velvet rose for no special reason, other than I felt like it. I sit here, writing to (only God knows) who, venerable, like a fool asking for it. Desperation has no space on my shelf-nope, I leave that to the drama queens, male and female alike; I only admit to this tiny ache in my heart's heart that grows at a steady pace, and as usual I look forward to the wrinkle in time that will dubbed my most cherished freeze frame. Oh whatever...Enough with the sap. I have to engineer some textiles now.