mellohorn

He’s the type of boy that people read books about. He’s arrogant, but insecure with unreasonable expectations, uncommon interests, deep flaws, and a heart of gold. He has dreams and a purpose, but he’s sometimes oblivious to reality, which convolutes his good intentions. He’s lovable, even to those who sometimes hate him, and he deserves so much more than he knows. He views life as his battlefield, always trying to outmaneuver the enemy, but he doesn’t realize just how many people are on his side, so he hardly ever lets his guard down. Behind the whole egotistical facade, he’s a real person with a ‘60s soul and his head in the clouds. He’s painfully relatable, heartbreakingly hurt, adorably passionate, and fiercely chivalrous. It’s just difficult for people to see when they don’t really know him because he’s been broken too many times before to let himself be vulnerable and real. He lives on the ground, now conforming to the harsh reality so it doesn’t sneak up on him and hurt him again, all the while trying to deny that he could be so much more than anything he thinks he should be. Because he’s the type of boy I could write novels about. I love him with his infuriatingly flawed logic, with his half-healed wounds, and with his longing to be needed. I need him. In all of his imperfections, he is perfect to me. Nothing can change my mind about the goodness of his soul. His personality is complicated, but even more beautiful than he is, and that’s saying a lot. His hair is black velvet, his eyes are steaming cups of earl grey (my favorite), and his smile is utterly infectious. Don’t even get me started about the faint five-o-clock shadow that manifests itself beneath his angular cheekbones. He’s the type of boy that I’ve written countless pages about. This has been just one more.

they are ancient as time clothed in space dust and skin existing as one though there’s madness within. and she’s fire and earth and he’s water and sky they change yet remain here unable to die. timeless and crystal but messy and new what once was so clear now confuses them too. and there’s love and there’s hate so there’s pain in their hearts and they clash and they break but they can’t stay apart. they’ve both lost so much but there’s so much to gain because fire needs air just like earth needs the rain.

I’ll engulf him in welcome, keeping him warm and fanning the smoldering ashes back to life until he is himself again. We can burn off of each other, reflecting in the raindrops and dancing through the darkness, content to burn together alone, just as we used to before he took a fancy to water.

Dear Me of the Past, We are worthy. We are beautiful regardless of what other people think of us. We are so strong and talented and intelligent and complex and sweet and we are filled with purpose and meaning and sunshine. I think that’s why I left him. After he gave you that head start, that boost of confidence and self-worth, you flourished and blossomed and began to grow. The more you grew, the stronger you got. You learned so many things about yourself, both for you and for him, and you became so much more mature until finally, you had grown past him. You were higher up than we had ever been before, and from our new vantage point, we were able to see that now, he could only bring us down. He had already helped us grow, but now we were beyond his ability to help in the best way possible. But that was also the worst, because it meant that the more we kept growing, the more distance we would be putting between ourselves and him. He just wasn’t mature enough to keep up, and to maintain a relationship with him would’ve been a hindrance to our growth and self-discovery. From our new vantage point, we could see that he wasn’t as mature as we have come to be, and we could no longer look up to him the way we needed to in order to stay interested romantically. So, I left him. I told him on no uncertain terms that I wasn’t leaving him completely, and that I still wanted to be friends, which could prove to be even better than our dating relationship ever was, but now it’s up to him to grow from this breakup and make it that way. I truly hope he does. But do you know what? If he doesn’t, it’s not the end of the world. I am still me, and I am still enough, with or without him. He does not define my worth simply because he helped me realize it. Nobody does, and rejection from anyone is that person’s own decision. It in no way relates to my value as a person, and the more I let it get to me, the more value I strip from myself. I have as much value as I let myself have, and when I know for myself that I am enough, that is when I truly am enough. I don’t expect to ever completely figure myself out, but I can choose to love myself even in the midst of internal turmoil. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get to a place where it’s easy to love myself, but I do know that love is always worth the difficulty that comes along with it. That is why I choose to love both myself and others fearlessly and unapologetically with the knowledge that unconditional love can and will change the world one person at a time.