The same recurring theme keeps showing up in my dreams. These faces from my past, when life was different, and I was different. I am wanted. I am chosen. I am loved.
I see myself in these various scenes, and I’m not sure. Am I wanting? Am I choosing? Am I loving?
And what of today and this relationship I’m in with me? This wanting. This choosing. This loving.
Somewhere, like a seed planted deep within, grows knowledge that I am a chosen love, valued for who I was uniquely created to be, for who I am. Loved first.
The unresolved response is mine alone. I choose Love.
52 Dates with Myself 
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