Anyone else feel like an outcast and just too weird to be loved? I give up.

I do not believe that love is just a feeling. If that were true, I would mean that you could fall in love with someone and it be the best feeling in the world. That also means that you can fall out of love, that just takes time. Love as a feeling is just a ticking time bomb, that kind of love just fades away in time. I will take no part in that sort of love. I believe in the love that takes action. The love that pursues endlessly without looking for some kind of reward or outcome. This kind of love doesn't play games. It puts the other persons needs above your own and expects nothing in return. It's the love that says, "I want you on your best days, your worst days, and every day in between. I don't want to just feel the love I have for you. I want to be that love." This sort of love isn't in any of those books or movies, this love is shouted from the tallest mountains and built beautifully with each grain individually cared for and placed perfectly. I don't want a love that comes from feelings. I want a love that takes action.


I'm 24, and I've never dated anyone. I guess I've never really had the chance - I'm a shy country boy who grew up feeling more at home among my father's jersey cows than among my peers.

I moved to the city to begin my pilot training, and the wife of my good mate was chatting with me one day and she mentioned that one of her friends was the sweetest, kindest girl in the 'entire universe' and she was also single.

I'd seen this girl once or twice; had bumped into her at social gatherings. I didn't know anything about her except that she was slim, very pretty and she could play the piano like a wizard.

After that, this girl seemed to be around a lot more. She was invited to all my friend's dinner parties and we'd often drop by her house to "pick something up".

I knew what they were doing, of course, so at first I stubbornly dug my heels in and refused to acknowledge this girl's fine qualities. But gradually, as I got to know her, I began to like what I saw.

That was six months ago. Now, I think Eloise is the sweetest, loveliest, most bubbly and innocent girl I've ever come across. She's funny and she cares about things more deeply than many people I've met.

I love her dark blonde hair and her deep blue eyes and her smile that makes a man feel like he'd do anything for her.

But here's the catch - I am way too scared to ask her out because losing her friendship would be losing something that I can't afford to lose.

So silently I wait, hopelessly in love and perfectly, stupidly stuck.

- country boy

Yesterday we were having a bite to eat in a café by the water. As we were sitting there, an elderly woman, with a silver cross pinned to her blouse, shuffled in and sat down in the corner. A lovely, humble nun.

He looked over at her, quietly eating her biscuit and coffee, and he motioned for the waiter.

"Has Sister already paid for her meal?" he asked him.

"Yes, she has" the waiter replied.

"Is there any way you could add her amount to my bill and give her the cash back? I would like to pay for her meal."

"Sure thing, sir".

Just when I thought I couldn't fall any more in love with him.

Four leaf clovers are considered to be lucky because they're rare, right? Because they're different? Well have you ever considered what they really are? They're a genetic anomaly. In other words, they're the fuck-up, the one that doesn't fit in, the accident. Most clovers have three leaves, but 1 in 10,000 have four. They're rare, they're different, but it's considered a good thing.

So if four leaf clovers are considered lucky because they're different, why can't the people in our world be considered lucky for being different too?

Why can an extra leaf make something so special, yet glasses, braces, piercings, tattoos, different hair, different weight, or a different height make something so...terrible? Why do we see it differently? They're all just different. So why can't they just be lucky, too?

If you find a four leaf clover, don't pick it, please. Leave it where you found it, where it's supposed to be, to thrive. Because after all, it's just different.


I used to work at a burrito joint on campus, and one time I had a morning shift. I would hardcore judge these people for coming to get a burrito at ten in the morning.

One morning, this really cute, really happy-looking guy walked in at around 10:01, literally a minute after we opened.

"Am I the first one?" he asked, smiling wide.

I, being the sour, annoyed employee at a burrito joint who was up way too early, replied rather coldly, "Yes." Sure, he was cute, but I wasn't working to flirt with people, and people weren't here to flirt with me.

That didn't seem to really faze him, though, and he continued his conversation, telling me which toppings and meat he wanted in his burrito. 

"How's your morning going?" he asked as we went down the tray of toppings. 

Taken aback by this sudden inquisition, I smiled and replied, "Oh, it's okay. What about you?"

He grinned. "Great. I just finished my last lab of the quarter for this killer bio class, and this is my reward." I laughed. He was kind of adorable. 

He watched me wrap the burrito and one of my coworkers came out to ring him up at the cash register. He was still the only one there.

"Like a pro," he said, smiling at me as I handed the burrito. "Have a good day!"

As he walked away, he threw both his hands up in the air triumphantly. It looked like he was on top of the world. I'd never met someone so excited about finishing a lab or getting a burrito.

Whoever you are, you're adorable and I hope I see you around campus again this fall. Sweet thing, you are so kind.

Hi I would like to submit my application for a love life

You seriously make me want to be a better person.

Sometimes I pull my hoodie over my head in the solitary of my own house because experiencing the world with the same senses that used to taste your name, see your long golden hair on my chest, inhale the clean sharpness of your perfect body and hear each mind-numbingly beautiful echo of our existences...Is too much... 

But I can still feel your gentle touch through the black cotton against my tear-polished face.

Never be embarrassed for trying. Whether you've been trying for a week, a year, or a lifetime. 

At least you had the courage to try. That's something a lot of people don't have. 

Keep trying. Keep going.