EleanorsLivingDiary
Poetic, soulful reflections from the everyday journey of Eleanor Grace.
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If You Could Not See Me
I watch the wind, not the rain.I am gentle but alert—the way a bird perches on a power line,still, but not unaware. You won’t know the color of my eyes,but you’ll feel them study you softly. If you could not… Continue reading
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Romance, As I Know It
Romance, for me, is a living language.It’s not just affection—it’s literature.Spoken almost daily.Dramatic? Certainly. It’s love that arrives through inboxes, crosses time zones, drips across windshields, and flirts shamelessly from traffic lights. My romance is intentional—and that intentionality is understood.It’s choosing… Continue reading
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“Retirement Isn’t Where I’m Going—It’s How I’ve Chosen to Stay”
I’ve asked myself how I wish to retire—and instantly found myself blinking at the question. And still… the answer does not come. The world, of course, had no hesitation.It offered a checklist.A finish line marked by dollar signs,pastel oceans,smiling stock-photo… Continue reading
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“Fuhgeddaboudit”
Because “Fuhgeddaboudit” can mean: incredible, impossible, forgiven, or final—because sometimes one word is enough to say it all, without saying too much. Let me explain. I’m behind the bar in a burgundy velvet dress, wiping down a shot glass that’s… Continue reading
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“A Notably Pretty Lie””
“There are things which, though lovely in form, reveal themselves in time. For time has a way of exposing what appearances try to withhold: the truth that lies beneath.” Not a firework.Not an elephant. Just a fry. It looked… Continue reading
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“The Affair I Had in a French Café”
Here in the United States, coffee is a necessity. It’s an accessory. It’s the fuel behind every hustle and the badge of every busybody. We don’t sip it. We chase it. We order it before we leave the house, pick… Continue reading
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To Remember Is to Live Again
There are days when the past presses upon me not as sorrow, but as presence— as though memory itself is a second breath, quieter, but no less real. It is spoken in another language… “Recordar es volver a vivir.” To… Continue reading
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“If I Had To Change My Name”
Sometimes the name they can’t pronounce is the one you were born to carry in reverse. If I had to change my name, and I mean HAD to I would smile with practiced grace, Pour tea into porcelain, and give… Continue reading
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“Because some skills don’t get listed on a résumé”
What I’m Good At I’m good at forgetting people’s names.Not sure if that’s good or bad,but it’s something I’m good at—and honestly, you might just get a new name.Because who doesn’t enjoy a new name…and a good laugh? I’m… Continue reading
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“Do I Remember Life Before the Internet?”
Indeed, I visit often. Do I remember life before the internet?I beg your pardon—you speak as if it no longer exists.Though there lives a generation that might not understand,I will not bring you the details.Rather, I shall take you… Continue reading
...The Rest Is His Story 