one of the most romantic things i've read in a while.

i just love old people, and new york.

http://humansofnewyork.tumblr.com/post/23504830842/ive-photographed-hundreds-of-couples-and-the

sometimes I meet people who seem to have gold woven into them. no matter how buried or hidden, there's gold strands in their hearts. maybe it's best sometimes, not to get too attached or entangled. but rather, admire their glisten and smile. knowing that to appreciate someone for their thoughts and feelings and vulnerabilities is what we're all asking for anyway. and knowing that to kiss them would not be as sweet as to let them bloom. this is what I think about after a perfect night with the newest friends who will be added to the dearest list.

would you be ashamed to sit next to me? how long is your patience? how deep is your love?

what I assumed would be true, is. I am still searching, unsatisfied, yearning. to no fault of ours, we will continue on, desperate to connect, letting each other pass for the good of our own selves, protecting. this is youth, right? struggling in loneliness to find someone who makes us less so. and when it doesn't fit, praise them for their virtues, traits, embellishments, and respectfully say goodnight.

my hands and my fingers keep cracking and peeling.

dorian grey?

some times are just sad and stressful and make my heart feel so so heavy. and then, those times are over. so, in the midst of a time when i can't quite cry, but can't quite breathe, i drink wine that i made and try to laugh as much as i can fit into a day. because one day this won't be so important anymore and i'll still always be me. and i have always liked to laugh.

just move on

just drive through those states.

this song won't quit

this is the song that i'll always listen to when i'm lonely.

in a blog about forgiveness, here is another thing that i want to say, on the record.

it is me that needs the forgiveness. it is me that needs the cool drink of water, the respite, the new life.

i've come to a point where i literally don't know how to sort it all out anymore, this mess that i keep making.

the ocean erodes us

what i want to come out and say is that perhaps i've never loved anyone. perhaps i've never loved anyone except for that one man with the dark beard.

he is more of a shadow than a man, now. like peter pan, his shadow dances independently of his body, moving wily across the interiors of my heart. often he hides in the cracks, subdued and tired until an electric pulse energizes him to remind me of what i lost.

and i want to admit this, this non-love, this lack of love, as an explanation rather than an apology. i will somberly remember that year when my heart was so hopeful. this man, an artist - a glass blower, taking my inflamed heart and expanding it, expanding it, expanding it. and there it stood, proud and open, letting the cool california breeze pass through and preparing itself to be a home, until it fell. until this delicate glass broke; until my heart shattered.

and since then i have been collecting pieces. gluing what i can back together, storing the misfits in a box. and i find that my glue is weak and i need a bigger box, and my arms are tired from carrying the burden. i feel like an old woman collecting antiques, deeply afraid that the biggest pieces will break again and again until i am left with grains of sand where a full heart once stood. the ocean erodes us.

this is all that i am. this is the account that i have for myself. an antique heart trying to maintain what still remains. desperately hoping for someone to take this box from me and build a mosaic; desperately hoping for a cool drink of water; needing something to pull me back to life.

Empty, or open-hearted? Where
A full heart spoke once, now a strong
Outline is the most I dare:
A window opening onto fair
Shining meadows of hopefulness? Or long
Silence where there once was song,
Waves of remembrance in the darkening air.
--john hollander

every time i feel the faint breeze of hope mingle with my emotions, i cling to it. remember it. what else can i possibly believe except that i'm going to make it? i am already dragging my feet through the mud, my nostrils are already singed and repulsed.

no, the only thing that will keep me going is hope.

what i feel, most of the time, is rushed, defensive, and annoyed.

what i'm experiencing is the determined part of my personality that pushes all other thoughts and emotions away in the hopes to complete just one thing.

my thing is simple, i just want independence.

the open road, a new home, best friends, and freedom of heart.

these things sound like a cool glass of water.