It is because of our mistakes that we grow and travel away from the pigeonholed demise of what we’ve been told. We acknowledge our sad and painful stories then step aside from defending, clinging and holding onto an endless swirl of reconciliation.
As the nights grow crisp and the air is a splash of freshness, something inside of me wants to savor the art of folding inwards. The intrigue of this alluring state is incredibly stirring. To check my reality, I blink to make sure I can find a way to match the pause and rhapsody.
There is no definitive timeline. Love is timeless and never-ending, and so are the remains of friendships and love. It is truly the only thing that remains from our lives, our connections and how we impacted people. It is never a grand definition of character but all the small moments that remain.
You see, like Seurat’s picture, love is so much bigger when experienced in person. It is impossible to appreciate, until you stand in front of it and it overwhelms you and whispers your name in person.
Courage is in waking to the wreckage of a life well-spent in perfect balance of fortune and failure and strutting to your sexy life rhythms. Courage means that one seeks not to compare myself against the variables of the human prototype but against fragile, unliberated previous incarnations of ...