There is love to be found in the small smiles of strangers passing on the street, in pausing to pet a stray cat, in making eggs in the morning.
It’s everywhere I promise, you only have to look.
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There is love to be found in the small smiles of strangers passing on the street, in pausing to pet a stray cat, in making eggs in the morning.
It’s everywhere I promise, you only have to look.
girls connected by laughter. i think that’s where love lives.
There are people I was born to love. In all my darkest moments, it's the way their eyes crinkle when they smile that help me carry on. I'll lay my sadness to rest in the gasping breaths between our giggles. With them, I am a little less lost.
I would know her by the path the bristles of her brush tear through her hair. I would know her by the organization of her night stand. I would know her by the nonsensical patchwork of her playlists. I would know her by her darkest thoughts and happiest memories.
Maybe to love is to know and be known.
Inside jokes thrown across a lace table cloth, plates piled high with sustenance lovingly made, and mismatched chairs supporting the friends we’ve made along the way.
Walking hand in hand through a glowing sunset, fallen leaves crunching under fashion boots. Pictures with silly poses, voices sung hoarse by the hymns of our youth.
In moments like these we do not need to be perfect, we must simply look around to the twinkling eyes and cranberry stained smiles and let the belonging wash over us.
Love guides my cousins hands as he shuffles the cards from his favourite game, keeping us entertained while the house fills with the scent of foods that feels like home.
Love lines the special plates my aunt presents to us, designed to keep my gravy from spilling over all the different foods.
Love is poured into the sides that lack onions, my uncle cooks without them, understanding my disdain.
Love rings through the air as we shout out the things we’re thankful for, voices piled on top of each other, laughter filling the room.
Love is woven into the cloth I use the dry the dishes, working as a team to tidy up the holiday.
Love cups my hands around a to go box, tells me to take some of it home, to let it fill my heart along with my stomach.
I will cherish the laughter that splits my cheeks and the evidence of community that lines my belly until the next time we get to sit together and break bread.
All these pieces of my heart stuffed in one car is a blessing
I carry a lot of melancholy with me but today I woke up to the cackling laugher of my friends in the next room and I think I will be carrying that with me from now on too.