wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts.

as a disclaimer; every love i've ever experienced has been worth every moment that i had to spend losing it. every cheesy romantic experience i've been fortunate to live through, hurts when reflecting upon. but without them i would feel more empty than i already do.

the funny talk we had while raindrops hit our cheeks, watching you smile in the movie theatre chair next to me, smelling peppermint and snowflakes on Christmas Eve with your family, sitting on the cold summer grass seeing shooting stars whip past, the excitement of seeing a new message in my inbox and knowing it was from you, dinner with two close friends, shivering underneath a blanket during a scary spring storm and you telling me that nothing bad would happen there, the warmth that's still on my skin from the southern summer sun as i'd drive into town to see you, watching the fan spin, late night walks around the neighborhood, driving as far as we could to get 30 teenage minutes to ourselves, and of course ending my senior year of high school with my first- young- love.



the subject of my admiration is all of them. "them" being experiences and the people that will forever reside inside of them. they only happened because i let them, and because i was willing.



i have been playing the part of a pessimist lately. and no wonder it's cloth has felt so itchy and irritable to my skin. it's fibers are binding, and i can no longer breathe. it isn't me. and the bitterness has taken over. that spacious hole is there because i let it create itself. you must give something permission to change you. and if you resist, it just digs at you until you're hollowed out.



i know what i want. i've always wanted the same thing. the only thing is that at some point i gave up, and i let the world's lies dig deep into me. i compromised things that i should've held fast to. i settled with my own unrecognizable behavior, and i laid every hope and daydream quietly in my hand and let the wind take them wherever it desired.



and i deserve the entirety. i will not settle for half, i will not settle for uncertainty, i will not settle for one foot in and one foot out. i won't stop believing and i will find someone that can twirl me just the right way.

and i want to give nothing less.


hearts are infinitely fragile. we know this- that's nothing new. but we all desire the most careful of hands to cradle the misunderstood and most hopeful bit of us. we have to be born with most of it, and maybe the rest is learned. but regardless, love is about protection to the best of one's ability- and an assortment of thousands of other lovely things.

cynicism will poison every ounce of your blood if you allow it. life can take you fantastic places if you allow it. if you allow yourself to settle, then you will. if you willingly believe, if you willingly give, and if you willingly hope- then the aspirations that are held deep in the small lump that gives you a steady rhythm, will hold fast to your life. what you desire will have no way of dodging you and your forgiving lips.



i used to love change. for a lot of different reasons, but mostly because it meant that something significant and different was on its way. i saw everything as preparing me for the next breathtaking chunk of something i was going to witness. this is before i fell into hiding, before i convinced myself that love was something tricky, something hurtful, something that will always betray you. but something inside of me tonight reminded me of what made me want to keep the search party out until the wee hours.



it's easy to feel a huge array of emotions without understanding where they originate from. but somehow, we all know our own limits. and once we've hit them, there's no reverse.



there is a type of love that brands you from the inside out. there's a kind of love that keeps you driving long distances late into the night. the kind that bridges gaps within yourself, that makes you want to literally run as far and as fast as you can to feel that feeling just one more time. there's a kind perfection that has more flaws than you'd originally hoped, and inside of it all the world sits perfectly on its axis.

raindrops will stall, plans will be altered for the better good, feet will be set in motion, palms will feel as though they're on fire, running will feel too slow, dust will not settle, static will cease, and desperation will be beautiful.



and just like that, hope is always restored.