I had a lot of issues with the prompt this week; though, I don’t think my issue arises from the prompt’s restrictions but rather from its abundance.

Write about something amazing.

A number of things come to mind.

Sunshine on your skin. The beauty of sad songs. Tears welling up in your eyes. Looking out into the horizon. The sound of cars passing by, or of the ocean. The feeling of contentment. Resilience during hard times. The capacity people have for love. Meeting the gaze of someone you love from across the room. Giggles and guffaws. The warmth of a hand, of a welcomed embrace. The complexity of each and every human being you come across in your daily life. The things we’re capable of and the lives we touch, often times without even realizing it.


But even more so – You.

And that is where I settle.

Ironically, a Robert Pattinson movie had a line that still resonates with me. The movie is called Remember Me, and the epilogue of the film reminds us – Our fingerprints don’t fade from the lives we touch.

I’ve repeated the line in soft and intimate conversations, in moments I’ll never get back.

I truly believe that our fingerprints don’t fade from one another and that is what I find amazing.

I find that I am a product of all the people I’ve come to love.

I think that, regardless of whether we recognize it or not, we carry around what we’ve learned from these people. Sometimes it’s practical things, like knowing how to cook my Dad’s famous ox tail or being able to pair meats and cheeses with surprising competency, just like how my mom taught me.

Other times, it’s a lot more subtle than that. There is loyalty and the value of friendship. There is fighting for things – for what is right, for what I want, for those I love. There is selflessness and resilience. There is the value of an open mind and overwhelming compassion. There is laughter and not taking myself too seriously. There is passion, and there is never settling for less.

Someone once taught me how to listen, really listen, and let myself fall in love the stories shared with me. The same someone taught me the capacity I have to love.

I don’t think all of these things have been lost on me.

And I guess, I come to the conclusion of this: I’ve taken everything you’ve all given me and run with it.

If all we are is the sum of the parts we’ve accumulated over time, I can live with that. We are constantly developing, though, and I recognize that. But I think of it as a snowball effect, continually building and continually caught somewhere between who we were, who we are, and who we could be.

Maybe who I am rests too strongly in romance, and I do find myself getting too caught up in what could be. And maybe what we could be, will never be. But that’ll have to be okay. Who we were, who we are, and who we are going to be is pretty damn amazing – and dare I say it – beautiful, too.

All we have to do is remember the fingerprints that made us.