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I’m sick of building walls that are impenetrable. These walls were built to protect me. But I don’t want to be protected when it comes to you.

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I traded my selfishness for the beat of your heart. I exchanged freedom for the feeling of your fingertips in mine. And I didn’t regret it one minute. I still don’t.

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You used to hold me tight, but now I can hardly feel your embrace.

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The real brave thing is to be soft. To let yourself be affected by the the small things often under appreciated or never looked for at all.

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I may not have transcended my craving for distraction, exactly, but I certainly became aware of it. And in doing so I began to conquer it.

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Running makes me feel grounded, safe.
But running also makes me feel wild.

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I know there is so much earth left to discover, so much soft sand or hard ground for my feet to feel. So many people I have left to meet, so many lips to kiss, so many stories to write.

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He says, you’re so strong,
and I respond, I am only strong when I am weak.

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So today, I woke up with a new kind of pain. It was the raw, aching feeling of something so novel and wonderful that I haven’t yet begun to fathom.

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Having to explain, for the 20802375th time, that Yes, I actually enjoy this.