I'm realizing us falling in love could help us become better people.

So today the sun was hitting your face perfectly. I low key started staring at you. Then, you ran your hands through your hair. I LOST IT...i swear I couldn't will my eyes to look away, i was frozen. Please dont do that again, you may kill me.

The funny thing is, I get nervous about seeing you. But when I'm with you, I'm not nervous at all. You're one of the few people in this world I am totally comfortable with being myself. You're my human.

I didn't know that all the love songs in the world are about you.

Your face is nice but your personality is nicer.

You never expect yourself to be the one who leaves. You read hundreds of letters and poems and stories about heartbreak, about someone walking away, about the aftermath, but you never think about being the one to walk away. You never think about being the villain, the cause of the broken heart.

So here's to the ones who walked away, the ones who realized that something wasn't quite right, the ones who had the courage to take the step they needed to, to start that difficult conversation. Because it isn't easy for anyone. It isn't easy to be the one making that decision, the one trying to explain why. It isn't easy feeling guilty about breaking the heart of someone you care deeply about, leaving for the sake of saving yourself.

To leave is not evil, is not inherently cruel, is not vilifying. Trust your heart, trust your gut, and do what you need to in order to be, to save yourself.

While I was in line checking out, today, a man stood in front of me with a cart full of Christmas gift bags, some old spice body wash, and an angel lawn ornament, which was about three feet tall. He was quiet, hands in his pocket, looking down. An older man. Then, his wife came prancing up to him almost like a deer lol. She looked like a well put together lady in her mid to late 60’s. Short, gray bob, perfectly kept. Makeup subtle but graceful and flawless. A casual outfit that looked like it belonged on a catalog model. Perfectly proportioned and in seemingly good health. To go with how well she looked, she had a beautiful smile and such a chipper, bubbly personality. She looked at him and said, “I love it! It’s perfect! But it’s so big, let’s just put it in the house and forget about putting up the tree!” And she looked at me, smiled, and winked. “I’m serious! He got a darn free for our front yard that’s almost as big as the house! I reckon we could just put this angel in the house and be done with it! You see I got these gift bags so I don’t have to fuss with wrapping all the gifts this year. When you get old, you get tired, but you get smart.” We talked about her 17 year old cat that passed away last year. We talked about her three grandkids that she loves to death. The whole time, she just smiled and talked to me as if she’s known me forever. But it wasn’t weird. It wasn’t like those people that over share with strangers and make things uncomfortable. She was just a free spirited, beautiful woman. The whole time, her husband stood there quietly with his hands in his pockets, looking down with a smirk on his face. Total opposite of her. It made me wonder what their story was. I know he must have been proud to have her as his wife. As soon as she came up, it’s like her presence gave life to even the shelves and conveyor belt and candy and magazines. I hope to be like that when I get older. People get worn down as they get older and understandably so. But some people, with age and experience, learn to appreciate life all the more. They get happier. They learn where their focus needs to be. They know what to hold onto and what to let go of. I bet that lady had some stories to tell. She seemed sharp. The smirk on her husband’s face was probably an indication that he would agree. I love chance encounters with strangers that makes me pause and think.


The heart wants what is bad for it. Chocolate and French fries and you.

They said that storms went by the name of three: hurricane, cyclone and typhoon.

Even so, all those names could only mean the same thing - wreckage, devastating impacts and horrible aftermaths. With the incredible forces they wield, they are capable of changing thousands of lives in minutes, even seconds.

When I met you, all I could think about was the opposite of what might have come along with the storms. I thought about peace and tranquility. Never have I ever understood (and agreed, for that matter) why the storms are named so beautifully - Hurricane Irma, Hurricane Katrina, Cyclone Dahlia, Typhoon Yolanda. 

But then you became everything you said you never were. In a split second, you succeeded to turn my life upside down, like gravity just stopped working on me. I was all knocked down by your brief presence until all I have left were mere ruins and debris. It was after a long time that I finally understand why they name storms after people.

Looking at it now, I think I might have an idea of whose name they should use if another storm is coming.


everyone seems so capable of transcribing their feelings while the only thing i can say when i think of her is: please, please, please, care about me because i still care about you.