love.

"Have you been writing? Are you documenting all these good things you're experiencing? The world needs to know! Your stories must be told."

Sometimes I get too busy experiencing the story that is me, that I can't even get it to pause long enough for me to even remember it all.

But I am. I have learned to be. I have learned to love. Not only myself, but others. Strangers. Friends. Hearts that beat close to mine in the middle of the night. Hearts that are far away, too.

I'm learning to exist in a place that isn't accustomed to those who are genuine, those are real, those who care. I'm not even sure if that sentence makes any sense. But it's true. I defend what is important to me, what is of value and meaning and worth. I argue that justice isn't required until there is injustice. And that justice only exists because there IS injustice. I argue that basic human needs are something that EVERYONE deserves. I sit on porches in the humid June air until 3am smoking cigarettes and wrapped in my boy's arms and I preach what I know. I preach what I believe. And I stand firm in what I know to be true and right.

[I write in circles usually.]

The point is, that life is really beautiful these days. And that even when things are messy or stressful, it's okay. Because you just ARE.

"Okay. Bright sides for today? It's Paper Release and I have little to know help."

"Go for it! Find your beauty today" he said.

"Today will eventually be over. I have an iced soy latte. My job matters. I matter. You cuddled me this morning. This coffee is delicious. And I love you."

He giggles. "I love you too"

And I don't care that we're cheesy and romantic and lame. Because when he holds my hand, I still get dinosaurs in my belly. And when he kisses my neck, the hairs on my arms stand up. And when he kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around my hips, I want to cry because it feels so natural. And when I think that in October, I'll get to hug him every night, I have to stop myself from packing all of my belongings up three months in advance. When I stand at his stove cooking grilled lemon pepper salmon and creamy parmesan risotto, with a spinach and strawberry salad, and he comes up behind me and whispers sweetnothings in my ear, asking "How did I get so lucky?" and all I can say, is "You?".
Love is (really) all you need.