I spray my bedsheets with lavender-scented linen fragrance. I like what I’ve begun. A new tradition, proving that I am deserving of only the things that make my life better.
I thought love was black and white. But I was wrong. It’s grey, translucent, and opaque simultaneously. It’s more than two people. It’s a heart, moving through pathways to the rest of the world, sharing itself with people who deserve it.
It’s a Saturday spent with Santana. A Sunday spent with the Bianco family. A Monday with Carter.
A three mile run with Adele. A night with Patty.
It’s music. It’s lyrics. It’s freedom within.
It’s catching fireflies in a jar and watching the world light up as you, eventually, unscrew the lid.
It’s reading the paper and finding a page that isn’t battered with hatred.
And driving for no purpose other than to feel the wind. To recognize that the world is suffering far more than you.
It’s a dress. A hair cut. A new swimsuit. It’s seeing a cloud that looks like your favorite animal. Seeing Tulips blossom in Spring. It’s tears of joy. It’s giving. It’s speaking because you know you’re not broken. And listening because someone else is.
It’s the sun, pushing the clouds away because it’s time to shine.
It’s knowing. It’s learning. It’s everything.