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Who honestly cares about anything anymore?

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The desire to do anything has gone. Only the numbness remains; a blank, empty sheet of paper, a black hole, an abyss of despair.

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i don’t give in, but three nights ago i said your name over and over until i could breathe.

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Starting again, moving each muscle from a long sleep, I extend each limb in every direction, filling the room as much as I can with the opening of light, of the body, outside mixed with the internal airs. 

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Someone once said most people die when they are 25 but aren’t buried until they’re 75, and what a terrible thing that is.

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40,000 feet above the ground and, still, I was engulfed by him. 

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I love that you know, after all these years, that I refuse to stop believing in love.

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I have to have faith that things will get better, even in the clouds and dismay and wonder and questions… because all of this makes me dream of new hopes that bring life to a love that I have lost and found and lost and found again. 

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And now, after what seems like a lifetime veiling this story with a strength I trust can only come from grace, I am trying to honor it the only way I know how — through words and verse, patience and gentleness. 

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Love is hard.