I’ve always loved rocks.
From the time I was little, I seemed to fill my pockets full of them whenever I went to the beach or even just on a short walk. I grew up in Michigan just off Lake Michigan, and we would go to the beach often. I would wander off for hours in search of treasures to pickup and admire.
When it was time to go home, my Mom would make me empty my pockets before climbing into the car. She said I didn’t need all those rocks at home. Maybe that’s why I kept looking for new ones every time I was out… I didn’t get to bring any home with me.
Since those days, I’ve collected lots of rocks. Mostly heart shaped ones. They seem to just jump out at me.
John and I went to the beach yesterday. We found green rocks, red ones, white ones, black and heart shaped ones. I filled my pockets full. We had a great time. When we got back to the car, he didn’t make me feel silly that I wanted to bring all those rocks back home with me. He just smiled at me.
It’s nice to be with someone who lets me be me, rocks and all.