if dreams were lightning & thunder was desire, this old house would have burnt down a long time ago.

I'm back, and with the passion and fervor of a thousand shining suns.
I credit the cloudless skies that burst forth rays of sun that feel like they were hand delivered to me by angels with long blond beach-curled locks of hair and flip-flops of gold with my name in glimmering calligraphy.

I'm in love I'm in love I'm in love with this life.
Finally, finally, I don't feel as if I'm just biding my time, waiting for the next exciting phase of my life. I discovered joy on my own rooftop, on my own firescape, in the very backyard of a Brooklyn brownstone. Joy is in my legs as I pedal furiously down Washington Avenue towards Prospect Park, a backpack loaded with beach towel, bottled water, healthy snacks, and sunscreen.
Joy is in my skin as the sun warms my shoulders and tiny flecks of light radiate from somewhere inside my body, as if it is not blood that courses through these veins, but liquid gold. Joy is in my laughter as I lay on a blanket with my dearest friend in the city, throwing a frisbee with people i have just met, sharing stories with beautiful people in between beautiful songs at a show on a beautiful night.
I take my coffee in the mornings with joy and cream and sugar. Lots of it. I eat chocolate chip pancakes at brunch with a dear new pal who makes my sides hurt with laughter and pour over them joy, thick and rich and from the bottle. I stir joy into my bourbon to make it sweeter and sip it from a jam jar on a patio in brilliant warm sunshine.
I consume joy. I am consumed by joy.

This is my life, and i want it all. every last drop. Don't ever stop living like this, don't ever stop loving how you live. One day,Katie, you'll long for this life again- being twenty something, married but with little to responsibilities, able to jump on your vintage yellow bike named Petunia and ride to the park, for ice cream, to brunch, to work. You'll miss spending your days playing with a tiny baby who beams when you kiss his nose, who falls asleep with the tip of your finger in his mouth, who sleeps while you drink coffee in the mornings on a bench on the boardwalk, gazing at the city reflected in the river while the wind lightly lifts your hair and swirls it around your face.

Love what you have. Let every moment explode with joy. This is your life. This is what you were made for.