To having more room in bed, by being awakened by womb punches in the middle of the night, to friends who-despite how angry they get- never give up or let go, and to the fact that you can always rely on the familiar sound of summer in the early mornings or on the stable smell of pine needles.
To the days when there are not enough hours to create everything you dream and when you realize that your fantasies have become your reality.
To when ending a relationship ceases to be an end but becomes a beginning to the opportunity to fall in love again, pure, stomach-churning love.
To quiet, sober, not-so-lonely mornings and by being comforted by the sounds of laughter from complete strangers.
When the pure beauty of color is just enough, or to the days when the simple stroke of a line on a page is enough to make you feel whole.
And to being completely enamored with your future.
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| And, of course, to never taking yourself to seriously. |
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