The last five percent

Whenever I move houses – and I do so very frequently for professional reasons – I strive to turn my new place into a real home, my home, as quickly as I can. Last time around I set a new record: I finished the whole thing in just two days of intensive laboring – except for the last five percent. It’s the last boxes that don’t get unpacked. The one or two lamps that don’t get put up. The shoe cabinet that never gets assembled. I don’t know why. I always end up not finishing the last five percent.

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Just another Saturday

Some Saturdays are different. Today is one of those. It’s the second Christmas Eve I’m “celebrating” without what used to be my family. I’ve deliberately chosen not to take up an invitation to my best friend’s family party. I just felt like spending the day on my own, enjoying some me-time. As if it was just another Saturday. No different from any other Saturday.

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The ultimate fear

For a very long time I thought that my absolute worst fear was that of venturing out into the emotional unknown, risking my heart to be broken a second time, by you, this time forever. Now I know that there is another, even worse fear: the ultimate fear of missing out on possibly the very best thing that could ever happen to me in my entire life, if only I mustered the courage to overcome my absolute worst fear – for a chance to experience true unconditional love and fearless wholehearted living. With you.

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