“This hope needs to hold, this belief should not falter. You will stay for me.”

“I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.”

Every dreamer knows that it is entirely possible to be homesick for a place you’ve never been to, perhaps more homesick than for familiar ground.

And even when you’ve got nowhere to go, keep going.

I’m afraid of endings. That feeling you get when you finish your favorite book and have nothing to look forward to. The feeling on a Sunday knowing freedom is coming to an end. Airports. Saying goodbye is so hard for me. I never want good things to end. It’s an interesting fear of mine considering I also have the thirst for change and adventure. Naturally those two things warrant a few goodbyes but it never does get easier for me.

Now more than ever do I realize that I will never be content with a sedentary life, that I will always be haunted by thoughts of a sun-drenched elsewhere

Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

I can’t talk about it because if I talk about it that means it matters. If it matters that means it’s real, and if it’s real that means it’s going to hurt.

You will hear thunder and remember me, and think: she wanted storms.