Every chance you get. Prove them all wrong.
Set Yourself Free.
dearoldlove: Although it’s evident now that every one of the quarter of a million words you wrote in those 250 love letters are no longer true, it kills me that you are still reluctant to admit that and set me free. Tell me it was never going to be me. I always knew it was true. But I needed to hear it from you.
“No matter how careful you are, there’s going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn’t experience it all. There’s that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should’ve been paying attention.” -Chuck Palahniuk I ran a half marathon in October (“run” being a strong word,...
The Places We Come From.
I’d be lying if I told you I drink sweet tea out of Mason jars. Or feel comfortable driving a pick up truck. My backyard never did have a tire swing. And I can honestly say I don’t own a single a pair of cowboy boots and certainly wouldn’t know the first thing to do with a teasing comb. Most folks don’t even detect that faint Georgia accent in my voice except on select...
Something worth fighting for.
The worst fights. The fist-shaking, voice-trembling, door-slamming, blood-boiling kind. I am grateful for them. When the dust settles and the skies clear and the sorrys are spoken, I always realize I love you more than ever before.
When There Are No Words. →
Fifteen words with no English equivalent.
They Say You'll Be Okay.
Why doesn’t anyone ever say, “You won’t be okay.” You won’t heal. Or recover. Tomorrow won’t be better. The worst is not over. You won’t be okay. Some things just break you. Some moments, destroy you. Some people, consume you. And you’re not just okay. And that’s… that’s okay. Those things, those moments, those reckless people....
No greater than the sum of its hearts.
There was a park bench. And a distant cloud shaped like soft-serve ice cream in a sugar cone. She sat there until the sun set beyond the tree line and the air around her shifted from a notch above comfortable to unseasonably chilly. Why does the wind always decide to stir when the sun goes down? She tugged thoughtlessly at her thin mustard cardigan, tightening it around her, but refusing to...
… Come, my friends, ‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world… for...– Alfred, Lord Tennyson