The only New Year’s resolution I consistently failed at was the one where I would fall in love on New Year’s Eve.  For whatever reason, every year I hyped myself up so much on New Year’s Eve, I was too nervous to talk to anyone.  As a result, every January 2, I felt like I had failed.  On only the second day of the year, I was already losing at life. 

The year I was going to turn thirty was the year I vowed to make no resolutions and no goals other than to just have fun and be myself.  I was tired of disappointing myself so I didn’t want to give myself any reason to do anything but what struck me at any given moment.  When New Year’s Eve rolled around, I made plans with my friends to hit a few bars around town before heading back to Jessie’s house to  have a few glasses of champagne. 

The moment I walked into the Journey House was the moment I knew my life was over.  It was the moment I bumped (or maybe I crashed?) into Frank and spilled his drink all over his crisp white shirt.  Personally, I was horrified, but the way he laughed was really what caught my attention.  I had never heard anyone laugh so hard at a drink spilled, but his laugh was infectious.  I was instantly head over heels and had to get to know him.  The only problem was he was already married.   


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