I can't believe it's crept up on me like this.
It's getting colder, the grass is finally green from all the rain we've been having, and I'm learning something new about the universe:
Acceptance is not admission of defeat.
I didn't finish my book, and I'm okay with that. I'm ridiculously proud of myself, actually. How many people even challenge themselves to do this? More over, how many people give up?
I'm so proud that I wrote half a book in a month. It's pretty amazing when you think about it; I wrote 10244 words. and they were pretty good words too.
I'm pleased as punch.
I also learned another thing to accept.
That boy I like? (Let's call him Jake)
He's not ready for anything more than friendship, and I need to accept that.
If I stand around waiting for him to grow up, I'll miss out on a thousand other boys, who are just as amazing.
That's not fair to me.
So you know what? I am ready to keep Jake as my best friend, and maybe someday, he'll want me as more than that.
But if I'm already taken, than Jake will have to deal.
Because I got the phone number of a boy in my karate class.
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