A Small Sacrifice to Make
I love December. Although I miss the sunlight of the longer summer days, I try to embrace the darkness of winter, because it forces me to re-focus; focus on me, my life, my house, my work, my family, and my friends. I see this month as an end and a beginning, a time to evaluate the past year and to think about the future.
This year has been very emotional with some considerable lows and some exhilarating highs. I fell for the wrong guy and was faced with the task of mending the pieces of my broken heart.
The most important thing I have learned this year is twofold. I saw a quote, I can’t remember where, but thankfully, it stuck in my head and in my heart: “Be strong enough to let go and be patient enough to wait for what you truly deserve.”
Repeating this mantra over and over gave me strength to make choices and say goodbyes that aided my wellbeing. It helped and is still helping me feel and truly believe I deserve the kind of stuff for which patience is a small sacrifice to make.
Gertie Janine Fransens makes her home in Amstelveen. When not working or enjoying books, movies, and music at home, she likes to go out, have a drink, get to know new people, and dance like nobody’s watching.
Table for One
The wind whipped my hair as I walked along the alleys of the Centrum. I smoothened my hair before I pushed the door open.
Poised, I said, “I have a reservation for two . . .”
“This way please.”
Twenty uncomfortable minutes followed.
The text came in after I sat: runin late b dere in 5.
When the third waiter asked if I wanted to order; if someone was joining me, I answered, “Yes, they’re coming!” and reminded myself to take the edge off my voice.
I refused to lose myself in Khalid Hosseini’s, And the Mountains Echoed. I refused to “smoke” my 21st century “cigarette,” that is, play with my smart phone. I sat, elbows off the table, admiring the oriental décor in the cozy setting. I played the which-couples-are-dating-married-fighting-game; and then watched the long and short hands of the clock.
Because I didn’t fill the void, (to prove what exactly?), I felt as though every eye was on me, every conversation was about me; my aloneness fingered with naan bread, forked and knifed with lamb tikka masala, and spooned with kulfi.
I had heard about a restaurant in Amsterdam, EENMAAL, billed as the first one-person restaurant in the world, and an attractive place for temporary disconnection. I had scoffed at the idea. Wouldn’t people rather eat alone in a normal restaurant? As I sat by myself, trying to be brave, I ate my words.
I write alone.
I create alone.
I think alone.
I can shop alone.
I can travel alone.
I can go to the cinema alone.
It catches me by surprise; I cannot eat dinner alone in a restaurant.
I am not as self-assured and independent as I thought I was. And, it’s okay.
Timi @ livelytwist
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