I love to write. I love to breathe and move. I love to lie in the grass despite how it itches and the thought of bugs crawling on me totally freaks me out. I love to cuddle. I love it when my forehead is kissed and when his hand finds mine. I love drives on back roads with the windows down and the music up; especially when it means it’s the long way home. I love that feeling I get when I’m on top of a mountain. The 360 degree views, the wind trying to take me with it, the sound of nothing and everything all at once. I love the feeling of being deep in a forest, off the beaten trail and surrounded by pines. Oh how I love the sounds of the birds chirping and twigs in the distance snapping underfoot; the shimmer of spider webs between the limbs when the sun hits them just right and the smell of new and old life all mixed into one. I love new places, especially the ones that are completely foreign, nothing like anywhere I’ve been before. I love a good cry, a hot bath and flannel sheets. I love a good beat especially those I can dance to, even if it’s not considered “good.” Whatever that means. I love to be alone, but also to be surrounded by those that mean the most. I love the feeling of the sunshine on my face even if everyone tells me that’s how you get wrinkles, to which I love to say, “bring em on.” I love to teach, to educate and enlighten. On the flip I love to learn, be schooled, hear and read enlightening words. Speaking of which, I love words. The endless combinations, the power to incite every emotion under the sun, to rally or break down. But above all I love to love and be loved, but in the end, don’t we all? What do you love? What sets you on fire? Are you chasing it? Do you seek out that which calls to you? I can tell you that I don’t always listen. I don’t always see the bright side of life and there’s times, like now, where I feel completely lost, and then there’s times, also now, that I feel I have everything I will ever need. You will feel and be many things in this life of yours. My only advice be that you love the living shit out of every ounce of it, because in the end it’ll all end up being just that, shit. Simple right? Probably not.
