Alone on Cloud 9

Alone on Cloud 9 (7)

Hey guys, I’ve decided to enter this story into the Watty Awards, so please vote, and also you can now find me on Facebook, look for Celia Rhodes, or join the group xoStardust

PS. The picture on the side is of Evan Larkin

Comment and Vote?

Cheers,

xo.

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"People keep telling me that I fall in love too easily—that I should protect my heart, that I shouldn’t wear my heart on my sleeve… I fall in love at least 20 times a day. I fall in love with the sky and the sun and the flowers and my children. I fall in love with smiles, with music on the radio and with french fries and Dr. Pepper. I fall in love with the sound of laughter, blue jeans, accents… Sometimes I fall in love with complete strangers, especially the ones holding hands and kissing in public. The ones who aren’t afraid to be in love with the idea of being in love either… I don’t mind the pain of unrequited love so much, because I think they’re wrong. Love looks good on me."

 -Natalie Anne Erlanson

Chapter 7                  Grade 10

February 14

You know that feeling you got when you were a little kid on Christmas Eve? When you still thought Santa existed, and you kept out cookies and milk, and didn’t give it a second thought that this fat jolly old man could squeeze down your chimney? When you’d look out your window hoping for a glimpse of a reindeer, and go to sleep early in the hopes that Christmas day would come faster, sooner, if only you could just close your eyes?

Well, that’s how I felt about Valentine’s Day.

It was that same bubbling excitement that came over you as you rushed down the stairs in your pj’s to look under the tree, the same bated breath as you ripped open the candy striped wrapping paper…

Only it didn’t have an expiry date.

Love didn’t cease to exist once you reached a certain age. It was always there, in every language, culture and era. Love, amour, dragoste, liebe, it was ageless, timeless.

It was the one day in the year you could get away with the cheesiest, most sappy show of affection without getting even a sideways glance.

To me, it was the closest to magic you could get.

And yes, maybe it was commercialized; maybe these days’ people could put a price on love, but it was so much more to me than that.

It was the day you smiled at that stranger on the bus, left a Happy Valentine’s Day note on your friends desk, left a flower or a rose for someone who meant anything to you, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe you made their day a little better, a little brighter.

And if any or those things were left for you, you’d know that at least for a moment, at least for today, maybe someone you never knew, or overlooked, was thinking of you. And that’s enough.

 I grabbed the container of cookies I’d made the night before and hauled it to the car.

It would have been warm today without the breeze, one of those days where the weather couldn’t seem to decide if it was sunny or gloomy.