Marisa Donnelly

When the windows are cracked and the breeze blows in, when the blankets are pooled around us, when we have nowhere to be and hours to learn each other’s minds and hearts—that’s when I want you.

I was terrified about going home for Valentine’s Day weekend. This trip had the potential of getting my mind (and body) out of awkward, what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life situations. But it could also be a reminder of how utterly single I was. I was twenty-two and hanging out with my parents. SOS.

You must have brown hair, because he’s partial to brunettes.

Sure, you can comfort this person and teach them what real love is, but you cannot change their mindset.

We can’t spend our days obsessing over this future, hasn’t-even-happened-yet, somewhere-off-in-the-distance relationship because we won’t be present in the now.

“If you can’t have a conversation with her at 7 in the morning, when she has no makeup on, it’s lust.”

Listening to the sounds of nature.

I have too much heart, to a flaw. In my relationships, I care so incredibly. When I love, I fall completely, fully, fearlessly. And when my heart is broken, I forgive, let go, and continue loving because that is who I am. Who I’ll always be.