a personal flurry

-why did you name me “winter”? not “autumn”, not “summer”?

dear boys,

if you’re going to hug a girl, do it properly.

wear a sweater, preferably oversized and soft,

something that’ll envelop her.

initiate it -

arms out open and pull her in.

hold her carefully - she is full of fragile insecurities and valuable art.

but fold into her, too -

sometimes you don’t have to be her knight in shining armor. sometimes you should just let her be your armor, for she is every ounce as strong as the sun as she is gentle as the moon.

stay wrapped up in her as long as you’d like, but make sure it’s longer than she expected.

she’ll pull away smiling, and when she does, let her hand slip quietly from yours.

then - here’s the hard part - let her go. let her be free to do whatever she wants next.

“why are you trying to hide from me?” she asked, touching his arm.

he pulled away. “i have this unshakeable feeling that you’re going to hurt me.”

“why do you look so sad?”

but really, how can you tell when it’s love? because as i get older, i’ve only figured out what love isn’t. you can write a song about someone and not love him. you can take someone to prom and not love her. you can message someone every day for months and not love him. and you can tell someone every single day that you love her and still, still not love her.

so then, what is love?

if you think you’re the king and i’m your pawn,

then this is a friendly reminder that pawns can turn into queens,

and when i do -

you come in waves - in ebbs and flows. you come in extremes.

with you, it’s always the sand-baked dryness or the hurricane.

i wish you would just love me, but i realize love doesn’t work that way.

you might as well be in outer space. now more than ever i want you right here, right now, in this room, holding me close and spilling our paint can secrets onto the canvas of the night. together, we could be art.

tell me about your ex,

something you did while you were drunk,

your biggest regret,

the most horrible thing you have ever said,

what you were wearing when you met her,

what you were wearing when she left,

the recurring nightmare you had when you were 5,

the first time you had to smile through your tears,

the first time you looked in the mirror and didn’t like what you saw,

what the monsters in your closet look like,

what the ghosts in your head sound like,

the first time tragedy struck your family,

the first time tragedy struck the world and it changed you,

something vulnerable,

something painful.

tell me about all your scars,

so i can lay them down one by one

we’ll never be more than words on a screen

that’s the thing about love:

your brain knows he’s not that important in the grand scheme of things

but your heart won’t let it go, categorizing each action, each word as one of the most critical world events

-why can’t countries in conflict find a way to resolve their issues without resorting to violence?

-why can’t human beings just recognize that we’re all human beings and let that be enough to unify us as a species?

-why can’t all children be given equal opportunity to succeed in life and achieve their dreams?