For as long as I can remember I have had an infatuation with words. A love affair before I even knew what the meaning of love was.

Growing up, I spent hours reading books, writing down quotations from other authors, writers, poets. I pored over novels, magazines, and song lyrics. Copious amounts of time were (and continue to be) spent writing down personal experiences, wider interactions, endless thoughts, feelings and emotions. As though, once safely stored on the paper, my words and memories would be secure forever.

Additional to my raw intrigue with words themselves, was my somewhat desperate refusal to forget. To freeze moments, capture memories, holding on tightly to time, forever fleeting. In some small way, my words were a way I was able to control what I could remember and preserve, keeping those moments secure and untouched.

Words have always been my strong point. My escape. My ability to express myself - my heart, my mind, my soul - when nothing else would prevail, I could write.

And write, I would.

This innate ability has always been a skill I seek comfort and confidence in, because when all else fails, at least I can write.

As I’ve reflected before, I encounter times when no amount of words will suffice or properly express what I am feeling. I have learned that the discomfort I feel when I am “at a loss for words” doesn’t need to be a debilitating feeling, but rather one of ease. Because I know in those moments to let it be. To let myself live and merely exist right then and there. Despite my love of words, I recognize that there is infinite value in the quietness.

Perhaps it is my attachment to words that makes me so attuned to the verbal exchanges I have with the people in my life. I place weight on the things that I feel and the words I package up and send out into the world - Because once they leave my heart or my mind they no longer belong solely to me, but to the person I am sharing them with. I mean what I say, and I say what I feel and I feel them deeply and fully and whole-heartedly. With such awareness, comes the inherent tendency to remember what is said to me. What is expressed to me and about me and for me.

I remember. I remember what was said and the way it made me feel.

I am thankful for the beauty of words and for the ability they have to carry me along in life. I am thankful for verbal and nonverbal expression, and the way we attach meaning to the experiences of our everyday happenings.

Be aware of your words, they are brimming with power and impact.

-A