Today’s guest post comes courtesy of Allyson Condie. Allyson taught high school English in Utah and upstate New York. Currently, she is employed by her three little boys who assist her in her secondary career as a writer by taking occasional naps and drawing on manuscripts with red crayon. She is the author of young adult fiction for the national market (Freshman for President) and the LDS market (the Yearbook trilogy). In her spare time, she enjoys running, reading, traveling, and eating. Not cooking. There is a difference.
Back when I was an incurable daydreaming romantic, I wanted a lot of things out of love. Companionship, a soulmate, all of that. I also wanted a song.
You know: the song that you and your significant other choose and refer to forever after as “our song.” My grandmother and grandfather had selected the very lovely “Till the End of Time” as their song, and she once gave him a beautiful inlaid music box that played the melody as a gift. I stood there watching them listen to the music and vowed that someday that would be me.