No one ever loses anyone. We are all one soul that needs to continue growing and developing in order for the world to carry on and for us all to meet once again.
**God was in a damn good mood when he created this woman.
Maybe you and me got lost somewhere
We can’t move on we can’t stay here
Well, maybe we’ve just had enough
Well, maybe we ain’t meant for this love
No one will ever know the specifics of what you’re going through, but they’ll know exactly how you choose to handle it.
Sometimes you go to bed and wake up the next morning and everything is different and you don’t know why.
You are elated one day and paralyzed with anxiety the next. All of a sudden you love green olives or don’t care about your bad highlights or hate your boyfriend. Sometimes nothing makes sense. Sometimes you are madly in love and you put yourself through medieval-style emotional torture on the tiny little slim chance you’ll get some measure of reciprocity and everyone you know tells you to move on, to leave it behind, to assert yourself and demand what you deserve. And you can’t and you can’t and you can’t and you can’t and then all of a sudden one day you can and it’s block defriend unfollow delete exit, the end. Sometimes the only future you can see is a certain way. Eggs at brunch and comfortable sex and Bed Bath and Beyond forever. And the loss of that vision is like a death. You have to mourn it and say goodbye and start to think, “This can never be,” instead of “If only.”And then you’re faced with the awful, magical, existentially dreadful indefinite future where you have a world of possibility available to you yet nothing is for certain. No guarantees. No security. But no f-cking toxicity. And nothing makes sense but nothing is confusing either. You’re floundering without an inner tube but you’re in six inches of water. The second you’re left alone and your flailing isn’t drawing poo-poos and omgareyouoks from everybody around you, you realize that things aren’t so bad, really. Unfamiliar, but not bad. And you get used to it. You float on your back and wrap yourself in the comfortable blanket known as the exhale and then the not-making-sense part becomes the status-quo part. It feels good. Lovely even, like an over-poured glass of whiskey in the middle of the day.
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