the art of saying NO11/16/2023
Ah, the art of saying "no" has always eluded me! It's like I enrolled in the "How to Be Extra Agreeable 101" course and aced it without even trying. The word "no" seems to vanish from my vocabulary when faced with requests. Parents want a favor? Absolutely. Friends need a hand? Always! Colleagues asking for assistance? Sure thing! Even the dog, with those puppy eyes fixated on the forbidden cookie in my hand, manages to wangle a reluctant "okay" from me, despite her clear cookie allergy! At this rate, I'm beginning to suspect my inability to decline will be the linchpin for my future wedding vows! "I do" to everything, that's for sure!
I've considered setting up a "Just Say No" hotline for myself, but I'd probably end up answering it and agreeing to help out with something else! My future autobiography might as well be titled "The Yes Woman: Chronicles of a Chronic Agree-aholic."
We met... though, who am I kidding? I'd love to create this amazing story about the first time I saw him, feeling dizzy, catching a scent, and a soft touch, lost in a trance forever... but, sadly, that's not true. The sea has always been a big part of my life! I grew up in a town by the sea: unafraid of storms, friends with seagulls, strolling lazily along the shore. When I was about ten, I wondered how people live without the sea. Some cities don't even have it! That idea gave me chills; that kind of life is definitely not for me!
But as time went on, I got older, and the small coastal town started to feel too tight. So, thirteen years ago, I moved to the city, away from the sound of the waves. I thought I wouldn't miss it. Waves? No big deal. Not all love stories have happy endings; sometimes, for the sake of happiness, you have to say goodbye to love. Could I do it? I won't say. But the sea definitely said goodbye to me. Now we're friends, no hard feelings. Once a year, we meet for coffee, and sometimes, when there's no one else around, we share secrets. In those moments, I feel like a naive girl blushing at whispers, but then a strange fear of the deep sea stories makes me not trust its embrace (what if I drown?) Now, I don't admit that despite the distance, I often wake up at night, remembering the taste of his salty lips.