You’d think this would get easier
Falling in love with people and then moving away. Falling in love with places, and arms, and footsteps, and things that remind you of hard you laughed and cried.
But it doesn’t get easier. And I never learned. And so somehow six years later I’m on a train crying with an American boy about how I’m moving to London and I’m not sure how this became my life. And yet, I continue to follow my heart away from everything comfortable and god I hope whatever sacred calling I’m pursing is worth it to leave so much love behind.
















