They Lived On Sunlight & Chocolate Bars

it’s like god wove loneliness into the fabric of who I am

I’ve felt like I don’t really belong on this earth since I was a child but I’m still trying my best to find joy in it anyway and that’s where I’m at now

and in the next fifty years, you will ache and you will glow. you will fall in love with people who don’t stay and still carry their names like pressed flowers in the folds of your memory. you will eat meals alone and meals with people who make you laugh so hard you forget the sting of silence. there will be mornings you can’t get out of bed and nights where you walk home humming under a sky so wide it forgives you. you’ll cry in public and smile at strangers and sometimes it’ll be the same thing. you’ll hear a song that reminds you of someone you promised you’d never forget and you’ll realize you already have, a little. you’ll outgrow versions of yourself you once thought permanent and mourn them like old friends and still you will keep going. you’ll see sunsets that make your chest tighten. you’ll be held when you least expect it. you’ll feel the cold on your face and remember what it means to be alive. and it won’t always be gentle but it will be yours.

art will save you, being unreasonably passionate about something niche will save you, letting past sources of joy show you the way back to yourself will save you, earnestness over composure will save you, the natural world will save you, caring for something bigger than yourself will save you, daring to be seen will save you, kindness not as a whim but a principle will save you, appreciation as a practice will save you, daring to try something new will save you, grounding will save you, love will save you, one good nights sleep will save you