❝ You have listened to fears, child,” said Aslan. “Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again? ❞
The Night I Started Loving You
We were on that camping trip with your two friends who were soon to be engaged. It was the second night we shared laying under the stars, both chilly and shy. We laid there for hours, our faces dangerously close seeing as how we were sharing a pillow. I kept my eyes closed almost that whole night, pretending to be sleepy but really my insides were ablaze. I was embarrassed to be so close to you and maybe a little bit fearful you would try to kiss me.
And laughter was spilling out of us, and we sang Jonas Brothers at the top of our lungs, and we talked about heaven, and all the sudden my hand was in between both of yours. And you kept me warm long after the fire turned into nothing but a few ambers. And I whispered “I’m glad it’s you,” not even understanding why those words were escaping my lips and you whispered “I’m glad it’s you, too.” No hesitation, no reservations, no doubt.
You and me, tucked away from the world. I never wanted that night to end. It was the most organic, natural, pure, innocent and beautiful night I have ever experienced. I didn’t know what that feeling was that growing inside of me that night, but now I do.
❝ And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself. ❞
going to this wedding solo is not what I had in mind, but I sure do like getting pretty