Reflections- Enthusiasm

Courtesy of Northern Exposures

Enthusiasm is contagious, so surround yourself with others who are passionate about their life's work. Enthusiastic friends motivate and encourage us to continue on our chosen path, even in the midst of daily challenges (Credit).

Enthusiasm is the starting point for self-help, even if we don't always feel very enthusiastic. More importantly, if we are the caregiver for a loved one with PTSD is is our enthusiasm that will encourage them to remain positive because it is a positive attitude that will encourage your enthusiasm.

It can be difficult to maintain your enthusiasm when you are struggling with PTSD or mental illness which is why it's vital you surround yourself with others who also cultivate an attitude of enthusiasm. Enthusiasm is contagious and since this week's blog post is about self-help, enthusiasm is a fantastic idea to reflect on today.

Courtesy of Kael Schindler

What can you do today to cultivate enthusiasm in your attitude? Can you choose one task and get excited about it? Can you choose one hobby you love and immerse yourself in it for an hour? Can you call one friend who is guaranteed to cheer you on and ignite your enthusiasm with their own?

Courtesy of Flickr

I find my enthusiasm burns brighter when I am encouraging others, that's why I work on this blog. I also love to write love stories. Is that cliché? Maybe, but it inspires me to keep going and write more and more each day. If writing romance is my ticket to an enthusiastic attitude then that's the path I'll take.

Courtesy of Flickr

My hubby has discovered that he loves to garden. He finds it calming to plan, dig and plant and then watch the beauty of his work blossom as the seasons change.

Courtesy of Flickr

What's your path to an enthusiastic attitude? Do you garden? Do woodworking? Draw or sew? I challenge you to find a way to kindle your enthusiasm today and make time for it.

It is my goal to end the stigma and suffering that comes with PTSD. I blog about PTSD once a week, searching the mountains of information out there and bringing you the best of what I find. I review a book on PTSD every other week and I publish a weekly encouraging reflection and tweet encouraging quotes for PTSD survivors daily, follow me to be encouraged. Together we can make a difference.

When I'm not blogging about PTSD or trying to encourage those of you living with it, I'm an author. I write romance. I just finished my first book and I am revising and editing it. With any luck, it will be published later this year, in the meantime you can get a sample of my work on the web. Original work can be found here, and fanfiction can be found here. Let me know what you think, and tell me how you found me!

Manic Mondays- Four from the Web

So today I'll take a look and offer my thoughts on four articles that caught my eye. This is a sort of current events but not really since it is opinion and pop-culture more than news.

I hope you enjoy and don't forget to subscribe so you don't miss a moment of the madness!

Lingerie Model speaks out against the term "plus size"

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 The full article can be found here but the gist of it is that she feels it's unfair for the fashion industry to continue using the plus size term when the  average woman's size rests around a 14, which is considered plus. She says it's harmful to women, especially young women, and their body images.

I have to say I agree with her and, of course, I have my own thoughts to add.  Let's also stop making plus size it's own department and line of clothing at the store.  I am, myself, a plus size. I can't shop at many stores because of this and it's not because I'm about to be featured on "My 600 Lb Life." A show that I love for the empowerment it gives to those who are struggling to lose weight and regain their health. Their stories encourage and uplift me when I take the time to watch them.

I hover slightly above a size 18. For those of you who are unfamiliar with shopping for women's plus size that means that if I were about 3 inches smaller I'd still be able to shop in the "Misses" department. A "Misses" size 18 is a little tight, a plus size 18 falls off of me and the 16's are very hard to find.

Additionally, the plus sizes, when I do find one that fits right, often look like tents or sofa prints. I don't know who decided that a paisley print stolen from my grandmothers drapes and fashioned by Paul the tent maker would make me look thinner because it doesn't. It does, however, help me blend in when I'm sitting on the couch in a old hotel, something my introverted self likes to do often.

Finally, lets discuss plus size exercise wear. Or the lack of it. If anyone needed exercise wear it would be me but, alas, it's not available in my size, XXL. I guess only skinny people work out. I am currently squeezing myself into the XL and hoping I'll shrink enough that they'll look less like an accidental and very colorful scuba suit and more like gym wear soon. Am I self-conscious at the Y? Of course I am but oh well, I turn up the music and dance anyway.

Meghan Trainor says it best and I love her for standing up for us.

Men's Standards of Beauty Around The World

While I'm on the topic of fashion lets not forget the men. Men used to have it easy, show up, open a door, smile, pay for the meal and he was a keeper.  Things are changing as this Buzzfeed Video showcases.

Lets give the guys a break too! I realized, watching this, that even I do it. My main male characters are all tall, trim and sexy. Is that the reality? Hardly, look around you, just like women, men come in a variety of shapes and sizes, lets love them for their uniqueness. I'm going to work towards changing my thought patterns and if you read my work let me know how I'm doing.

 Images of PTSD

This article caught my eye, in a way it's related to my manic musings above. If you just did a double-take and reread that statement stay with me for a moment. 

PTSD is rapidly becoming a widespread phenomenon and not just among soldiers, although they do weigh heavily in the statistics. Add to that the fact that we lose 22 soldiers a day to suicide, usually PTSD related and that means, "Houston, we have a problem."

What is the cultural idea of who a soldier is? Strong, tough, independent, brave? Those are all words that can be used to define our soldiers. They willingly step up and do what our country asks, no orders, them to do, be it peace keeping missions or other. Now I don't want to start a conversation on the missions, this is not a political piece. They signed up to serve in the military, it's a job and someones got to do it, after that they are simply following orders, they don't get to choose where they are sent or what they do.

Twenty percent of the men and women who are serving our country today are likely to develop PTSD when they get home. Lets stop demonizing it, lets stop pushing it under the carpet in the hopes that it will go away on its own and lets offer them the support they need to heal. Healing is possible. Sure they may never be the same but they can live. How do I know this? I live with a soldier who has PTSD and I have walked beside him over the last ten years as we've come to terms with what it means for us and watched him heal. Is he done? No. Will he ever be completely healed? I don't know, I hope so but I'm going to love him where he is, no matter how hard and never compare him to some unattainable, fairy-tale ideal that doesn't exist.

Lets start the conversation today! Check out these images, you may be surprised at the humanity you see in them. And lets remember that in PTSD everyone suffers.

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 Dogs by the Hour

Finally, I'm going to log off with a slightly less serious topic. If you've made it this far through my manic ranting then this is your reward.

A Japanese company, in response to crowed homes and busy lives has started a pet rental service. For a fee you can rent a few hours of puppy love and then go home. This is almost better than grandchildren! I mean, no pooper scooper duty, no last minute trips, and I might add very expensive, trips to the pet food store because you didn't notice you were opening the last can of food, and definitely no chewed shoes when you're late because Banjo got bored waiting for you. I'm kind of wishing I'd thought of this first!

Now, if my granddaughter is reading this which I highly doubt, she's smart but she isn't reading just yet, I hope. I am not saying I'd rather rent a puppy for a 1/2 hour then spend time with her but the payoff is essentially the same. You can rile them up, feed them lots of junk and then send them home for someone else to deal with, that's playtime you can enjoy. I wonder if this will catch on anywhere else?

Oh well, it's unlikely to become a part of my life since we own a dog who is my hubby's best friend and when he passes on to that playground in the sky we will seriously consider a service dog trained to work with PTSD since that would be amazing for both of us.

I hope you've enjoyed my Manic Musings for this bright and shiny Monday morning. Leave a comment and let me know your thoughts.

Manic Monday Musings

So I know everyone is buzzing with Fifty Shades of Grey. And I'm not here to condemn or support it, I'm here simply with an observation.

I read this article about domestic violence in Cambodia, I encourage you to read it also.  It struck me what a cultural gap there is between us. The women in Cambodia have virtually no recourse when they are abused by their husbands.

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First of all, in Cambodia it's not violence until somebody bleeds. That means that when the woman in this article got hit over the head with the blunt end of a machete she was not being abused, but when he chopped her fingers off with it, it finally became a crime. WOW!

Second of all, the laws are designed to preserve the family, not the woman's life. If a woman is abused, and actually reports it because many don't, she has to submit to mediation three times before the court will even consider divorce. Combine that with the fact that 45% of the authorities considered it to be okay for a man to beat his wife if she deserved it and that 42% of wives accepted being drunk as a excuse for abuse and you end up with a culture that accepts the regular abuse of woman. WOW!

Finally, because of the culture in Cambodia, when a man does actually go to jail or prison for abusing his wife she loses all her income. Cambodia is a culture where the women don't work, can't work for a living wage and when you remove the provider because he is abusing his wife she loses her security, home, food, everything. She and her children become homeless. So she is encouraged to not press charges, or to retract them if she does in order to survive.

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Now let's compare this to America where women are tweeting that they are “looking for their Mr Grey.”  American women are fantasizing and asking to be tied up and, essentially, abused.  What a difference. I'm not judging anyone who desires this, or finds it erotic, it takes all types, I'm simply thankful that I live in a culture where I can make the choice.

I'm thankful that I live in a culture where I could leave my husband if he wasn't treating me the way I wanted to be treated. Where I could earn a living and support my children, albeit maybe not as well as he has but I could. Where if I call the police because my husband came after me with a machete they wouldn't shrug and wonder what I was making a fuss over.

I know there is a lot wrong with our culture, we still have racism and inequality, and homeless people and poverty,and on and on but there is a lot right with it also.

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Virginia Slims, if you are old enough to remember them, used a slogan for a while, “You've come a long way, baby.”  I agree we have. And we need to keep pressing forward because this is not a sprint it is a marathon and we have many laps to go. It is our example that will encourage others to step up and do the right thing, lets remember that.

Toodles

Mummified Monk

Opinionated Friday

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So this was in my Discovery news feed.  This monk, 1000 yrs ago, went through this ritual and mummified himself in veneration to his beliefs.  That some hardcore religion there.  I consider myself to be a fairly religious person.  I have my beliefs, I keep them to myself for the most part, unless I'm asked.  But I'm fairly certain that I could never do this sort of thing to show my faith.  I mean, he spent over eight years preparing his body and mummifying himself.  I have trouble sticking to a diet for eight days.  And the stuff he ate!  Nuts and seeds for the first 1000 days, then twigs and bark for 1000 days, and then poison that made him vomit.  

My hat goes off to this man who lived 1000 years ago.  In this day and age of new stuff every year I'm sure I could never commit myself to something the way he did.  That's some serious madness.

The original article can be found here.  Be sure to check it out.  By the way, I'm sure there's a story in here, perhaps a diary of his experience?  I just can't write anything in which my main character dies at the end.  I wrote a fanfiction like that once and I cried every time I had to read it.  And she died of old age...can you imagine?

Manic Monday Musings

Good morning! And welcome to Manic Monday Musings, a place where you can glimpse into the rambling madness within my head. Each week I will offer you a peek into my thoughts, my madness goes far and deep though so be prepared to read about daily life, anime, news and pop culture, and whatever else pops into my head. Consider it an affirmation of your sanity.

Here we go:

Plant Serial Killer

I have a confession to make. It's a serious one, even though it won't sound serious when you first hear it, so don't laugh at me.

Well, I guess that kind of sets you up to laugh at me, doesn't it? I mean, I'm asking to be laughed at simply by asking you not to. Because either you'll laugh at what I have to tell you or you'll laugh at me for thinking you would.

But I digress...

I have a confession to make and it's not a pretty one. I'm a serial killer...of plants. I'm not kidding about this. If you give me a plant you are pretty much resigning it to death. If I buy one my kids take bets on how long they'll last.

It's not like I don't try to keep them alive. I water them, sometimes too enthusiastically which is often the beginning of the end for them. Sometimes though, I forget to do even that... poor things.

It's not as if I intentionally kill them. And sometimes they last a really long time for me. I have a spider plant that I inherited from my grandfather when he died. I've had it for almost 14 years and, although it has come close, it's not dead, yet. It's siblings however have not been so lucky... oops.

It's gotten to the point that when I bring a new plant home and announce the end of my reign as a plant serial killer my kids tell the plant their sorry. As if they know there's no hope for me.

This will be the year...I will end my reign of plant killing.

I hope.

Writing Challenges

Hi there blog readers from the web.  You've come back for another taste of madness I see.  This was written in response to a challenge prompt that a friend of mine put out this week.  You can check her blog out here.  The prompt was do not enter, and the only requirement was that the work be centered around that theme.  I hope you enjoy!

Pic obtained from

DO NOT ENTER

The four friends sat and stared at each other, unsure what their next step would be. They had expected immediate freedom when they'd been released from the cell they'd been trapped in for what seemed like forever. Now they sat in a circle trying to decide their next move.

Florence tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, she was glad she'd had it up in ponytail. “I think we should go for it.”

“What if it's a trap?” Stanley, the cautious one of the group, asked with fear evident in his voice. The experience had been the hardest on him.

“It can't be. Why would they do that? Release us just to recapture us?” Helen countered his argument with her usual sensible logic.

“We all just need to be calm.” The final member, the quietest one, added his opinion. “Either it's a trap or it's not. We have to decide and then stand behind our decision.” He stood and walked away from the group recalling the events of the past week in his mind and trying to make sense of them.

They had been walking home from their usual Friday night pizza when it had started to rain.

“That's odd. There's no rain in the forecast.” Helen was looking at the sky in wonder.

“We could take the shortcut through the forest. It would get us home in half the time.” Doug watched his friends knowing that Stan would be the holdout.

“They say you should stay away from the forest on the night of a full-moon.” Stan's voice was shaking and frightened.

“That's just an old wives tale!” Florence laughed at him. “Besides the trees are thick and will keep us from getting too wet if we hurry.” She ran into the forest leaving the others no choice but to follow.

That had been the beginning. They'd walked through the forest for less than five minutes when they'd been surrounded by a circle of shadows that slowly closed in on them. Doug watched as Stanley fell to his knees with a cry and then collapsed, unconscious on the ground. Flo was next, she cried a little in fear. Helen followed her to her knees with an unbelieving look on her face and the words “Run Doug!” before she passed out. The last thing Doug remembered was watching the ground rush up to meet him before he woke.

He opened his eyes and noted that Flo was the only other conscious one amongst them.

“Where are we?” He looked at her grimly.

“In some sort of cell I think.” She looked around them. “I've only been awake a few minutes longer than you.”

“I see.” He looked around the dimly lit area noting the hardened dirt floor under them. It appeared to be some sort of cave with bars at the front. “Have you called out?”

“No. I was afraid of making whoever caught us angry.” She glanced down in embarrassment.

Doug rose, steadying himself against the head rush it brought on. Standing at the bars he hollered loudly, “Is anyone there? Let us out!” The echo of his voice was his only answer.

“Stop making such a racket. My head hurts.” Helen held her head as she moved to stand.

“Yeah. Let's not attract any attention if we don't have to.” Stan cowered on the ground.

“Obviously someone put us in here, and we need to get them to let us out.” Doug gave his friend an annoyed look.

“I agree.” Helen joined him at the bars and yelled as well. “Hey! You won't get away with this! Let us out!”

They had spent the next few hours arguing amongst themselves as to whether they should attract the attention of their captors or not. Doug and Helen had both felt it was their best chance, Flo agreed with them but was afraid, and Stan was completely terrified of the idea.

“What if they want us to demand our release?” Helen argued with the two hold outs. They had agreed to be quiet until they'd reached a group decision.

“What if they want us to be quiet?” Stan had countered.

It was true, they didn't know their captors reason for trapping them and so they didn't have any idea what the terms of release would be. They all sat and stared at each other wavering in their resolve and how to escape.

“Look Stan.” Doug tried to calm his childhood friend. “If they were going to harm us they'd have done it by now. We've been in here for hours. We have to try and get their attention so we can get out.”

“I agree.” Flo nodded her blonde head, pony tail bobbing up and down behind her.

“I don't know.” Fear danced across Stan's face as he looked into the shadows beyond the bars. “What's out there might be scarier than what's in here.”

“True.” Doug nodded. “But you'll never know if you don't try.” He smiled reassuringly at the redhead. “It's like life. You have to keep taking risks. You have to trust yourself and your strength.”

Stan looked up at his friends as they stood around him. “If you say so.” He stood shakily to his feet and approached the bars with them.

All in unison they hollered. “Let us out!”

As if that had been the key to the cell the door drifted open. They all looked at each other in amazement and walked through it, wonder filling their eyes at how easily it had opened. They squinted in the dark and found a corridor leading off the open room their cell had been in. Now they were at the end of that corridor facing a door with an ominous sign on it.

DO NOT ENTER

And in smaller letters under it.

Entry offered only to the one who can see what is around them and not be ruled by it.

“I say we open it.” Doug ran his hand through his short black hair. “So far we haven't been hurt for acting on our own.” He rose from the group, striding over to the door.

“What do you think it means?” Helen joined him at the door, squinting at the enigmatic message.

“I'm sure I don't care.” Doug shook his head and reached for the handle.

“NO!” Stan stood and ran to him. “It's a trap.”

“I don't think so.” Flo joined them. “I think it's a riddle and whoever solves the riddle can open the door for us.”

“Whatever.” Doug shrugged and twisted the handle. Click, click, but the door didn't open.

“How can you be ruled by what is around you?” Flo scowled at the sign. “What's around us? Darkness, I'm not afraid of the dark.”

Helen looked at her and smiled. “How can you see what's around you when it's dark?”

Stan looked at the words, light dawning in his eyes. “It's me.” He smiled at his friends.

“Who is?”

“I'm the one that can open the door.” He reached for the knob with a new strength in his hand and confidence in his eyes. “I can see the world around me and not allow their lousy opinions of me to keep me trapped any longer because I have friends to lean on and keep me strong when I need them to.”

Doug, Flo and Helen gasped in unison. “Stan!”

“It’s like you've been telling me for years,” he looked Doug in the eye, “don't let the idiot's get you down.” He grinned broadly. “I see it all so clearly now. I can see the idiots that make fun of me and cut me down but I don't have to let them decide who I am anymore. I can let my friends do that with me.” He chuckled. “I should have seen it so much sooner.” Reaching for the door he paused at Doug's inquiry.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why should you have seen it so much sooner?” Doug held him back with his hand on his forearm.

“Because it's been staring me in the face since our cell opened.” He smiled confidently up at his lifetime friend. “When we worked as a team our prison opened. When I stop looking to the world for who I am and instead look to my friends the cell opened, I trusted you to be there with me when things went wrong. It's time for me to stop being ruled by the bullies and start living.” He crowed like a rooster. “Here I come world, watch out!” He gripped the handle of the door and twisted it.

Light poured in and washed over them as they tumbled through the doorway into Flo's backyard.

“I don't get it. This is where the shortcut through the woods brings us.” Flo looked around them in surprise. “Hey, where's the door?” She was looking behind them in disbelief.

Stan put his arm around her shoulder and shook his head gently. “It's all in my mind, Flo, all in my mind.”

The Valentines Day Writers Challenge

So this little drabble is a bit I've written for a Valentines day challenge.  I had to conceive of it and write it today.  It is, admittedly, too long for a drabble but I've thought about telling Willow and Julian's love story since finishing Catch a Falling Star, maybe this is the beginning of it.  It's just a little glimpse into their story, there are no spoilers for the Falling Star story in it so don't worry if you're reading that.  I hope you enjoy it!  And if you want to know more about them and the other characters check out my story as I'm posting on FictionPress.
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The Willow and Julian Collection

Willow was standing on the front steps watching Naomi, her shy friend, greet Julian, Jarrod, and another woman as if she'd known them all her life. She didn't know if she was more surprised by that or Julian's presence. Sure she had seen him at Naomi's housewarming and they'd talked briefly but she was still pretty sure he wasn't interested in her, and she was not interested in getting her heart broken.

She waved and said hi to Jarrod-sensei, smiling as she did, she hadn't seen him in years, since she stopped studying martial arts with him when she'd left for college. That was the last time she'd seen Julian also, at least on a regular basis. They'd run into each other since then but never often and they always just said hi and moved on. The last time had been just before she'd started med school.

Alistair had gotten it in his head to try to get them together again. He could be such a do-gooder sometimes. He'd just started dating Hanna, who was now his wife, and he'd asked Willow to join him and a friend for a ride out to the beach. He'd neglected to tell her that the friend was Julian. It was apparent from Julian's face that he'd also neglected to inform him.

The evening had been a disaster. Julian had brooded all night long even when Willow had tried to get him to talk about his work. He been working as a police officer for several years at that point and she'd figured that since it was what he'd always wanted he'd like to talk about it. His one word answers had told her otherwise. She'd been so relieved when the evening was over and she'd gotten home. She'd also cried herself to sleep that night.

He was the best looking man she'd ever laid eyes on. He was tall, maybe 7 or 8 inches taller than her. He had inky black hair, it had been a messy mop in high school but as an officer he'd had to keep it clean, apparently he'd returned to the messy mop since leaving to work for Sturman Security. She decided she liked the messy look on him. He was fit, he'd clearly kept up his workout schedule since leaving the force and she admired his broad shoulders and narrow hips, it made a nice picture, one she'd like to wrap her arms around.

They'd met in high school when they both joined the same martial arts class with their mutual friend Alistair, they'd been thirteen at the time. She knew Alistair from her neighborhood, and he knew Julian from the private school they both attended. She'd spent the first few years they knew each other grinning at him with a simple schoolgirl crush but at some point that crush had morphed into a full on desire to be his girlfriend. When he was kind to her he was the sweetest man in the world, but sometimes he just seemed to forget she existed. It wasn't that he'd ever been mean to her, just distracted. She'd asked him once why he didn't want a girlfriend when every girl he met practically fell at his feet. He'd huffed and said girlfriends were a distraction and that there was only one thing he wanted. He’d never told her what that one thing was.

Willow came out of her reverie realizing that Naomi had just accepted her neighbors invitation to join him and his friends on a ride out to the beach in celebration of Keiko's audition. Toby was suggesting who would ride with who, he took Naomi for himself, Willow thought there might a little interest there on his part and she hoped Naomi would give him a chance. Then he set Keiko with Julie since Keiko knew her best out of all of them.

Willow stood rooted to her spot, only Jarrod-sensei and Julian were left. The silence was deafening as no one knew what to say. Julian was staring at her with his dark, unreadable eyes. Her heart was screaming ask him but her brain was reminding her that he always broke her heart. Her world spun around her when he spoke.

“Willow, come ride with me.” His voice was soft and he beckoned her over to him with a nod of his head.

She moved towards him as if in a dream, smiling gently at him.

He smiled back at her and handed her a helmet. “Do you need a refresher on motorcycle etiquette? Or do you think you're ok?”

She looked into his eyes and saw that he was teasing her. “I think I'll manage.” She tightened the strap on her helmet and waited for him to start the bike. He'd gotten a new one and she admired it as she waited. When he nodded to her she climbed on and adjusted herself, tapping his shoulder when she was ready.

The hour long drive out to the beach was heavenly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. His spicy scent washed over her as the wind swept it off him, and his shoulder was pleasantly hard and warm. She knew she was in trouble again when she found herself wishing their ride would last all day.

Her heart fell when she realized they were pulling into a parking lot and parking. She hopped off the bike and removed her helmet moving to join Naomi and everyone else but he grabbed her wrist. “Willow, can we talk?”

She turned back to him. “Sure.”

He pulled her so close to him that if one of them had moved just a bit they'd have been touching. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?” She looked into his eyes trying to read him, he'd always been an enigma to her.

“For the past. I haven't always been a nice person.”

“You've been true to yourself, isn't that more important?”

“Not when it hurts those around you. And I'm not so sure I've been true to myself. I think I was being true to what others wanted me to be.” His dark eyes penetrated hers.

“Really?”

“Really.” He looked up and nodded at Toby and then looked back. “There were a lot of expectations put on me, and I was expected to keep up with Garrett. I sometimes allowed my goals to distract me from the important people standing right in front of me.”

Willow's eyes were wide with surprise. “Are you saying...” She trailed off afraid to put her thoughts to words.

He nodded and took her hand in his. “I am. I'd like another chance, unless you've found someone who deserves you.”

She looked at him in confusion and then realization hit her. “No, I'm not dating anyone. But look, there has to be some promises here. Every time I let you in you break my heart. I can't do that again, Julian.”

He nodded. “I know. I'm a different person now. More grown up. I promise I'll take it slow but I'd like to see you again, and soon. I don't want to wait another eight years. Lets see if we can work this out? I miss you.” He smiled at her and pulled her hand up to his lips to kiss it.

She wondered, was he saying he'd been waiting eight years to see her again? She smiled back at him and sighed. “I can't tell you no, Julian. I've loved you since I met you. I just hope you don't hurt me again.”

“I promise I'll be gentle.”

“Is that true?”

“Is what true?” He looked at her as they walked hand in hand to the beach.

“That you missed me?”

He nodded solemnly. “It is. You were always a bright spot in my life. You saw good in me even when I didn't. I'm hoping I can return that love now that I've found the good in me too.” He stopped and faced her. “You always believed in me, thank you.”

She sighed and leaned into his chest. “You're welcome.”

I've actually done this.  And not just on Facebook, I've done it with text and email too. 

Ahh, the price of madness.

Toodles my lovelies!

P.S. Autocorrect accepts lovelies but not toodles, it wants it to be poodles which is not nearly as fun.