Today.

For so long I was chasing happiness. So sure that it was a place I would come to someday. I searched for years. I threw so many beautiful things and people and ideas away because of my endless endeavor and hunt.
Then.
Then I read the words of Margaret Lee Runbeck. She says,

"Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling."

I already know where I'm going. And I get to choose who I'll be and what I believe and how I act till I get there. 

I choose happiness. 

I get to choose happiness. 

And that is something entirely, wholly beautiful. 

I have had an incredible June day. And it is ending with a sunset out the kitchen window and my Bible open to Esther and coffee brewing to be paired with ice and milk tomorrow.

I am happy. 

Are you?

Done.

I am done with today.
I was at school for 9 hours. And I didn't even do my Art History exam because my teacher got sick and it was canceled.
I thought about youth this morning. And drank iced tea while Mandy was in math.
I also had some good stuff in my head about Joel. But I can't write it right now. I'm not articulate enough.
Finals is in 1 week. Bah. My last essay is on the effects of married women learning to cook. I'm going Julia Child on my teacher.
We'll see how it goes.
Tomorrow:
Skype date with Hana Rachel.
Baking.
Homework.
Art History cramming with Mandy.
Laundry.
Homework.
Bicycling.
Track&Field in the high school. Hallway runs.
Homework.
Tea.
Prayer.
Homework.
Alright. Goodnight. I am just done with today.

Heureux&content.

Dear Fleur.
Today is nice. The sun decided to peek out. I missed him. He is a dear friend. Worth every ounce of wishful thinking.
I am in a good writing mood today.
•
Her legs were crossed. In that particular way that meant she was happy. That she was content. And she was at the moment. Heureux&content. A good duo.
Her hair was poofy. It was a big hair day. She didn't exactly feel in mood for poofy hair, but she just piled it up on her head and was satisfied. Her hair wasn't something she could exactly control. It had a life of its own. And it was stubborn.
She wore a little skirt her older sister had sewn. High on her waist with a yellow striped shirt tucked in it. It felt like she was wearing summer. All over herself. A little pearl hung around her throat. And her feet were bare. Maybe that was what made her feel like she was wearing summer. Her bare feet. But then again, she was always barefoot.
Her head was wishing for a French boy.
But there wasn't one.
So she just went to get her French flash cards out. And practice. Saying things like 'je t'aime'&'frere'&'petite.'
And she was heureux&content once more.
•
I like you sun.
And I like the way I'm writing today.
Love from Bella.