“Maybe tonight you’re scared of falling, and maybe there’s somebody here or somewhere else you’re thinking about, worrying over, fretting over, trying to figure out if you want to fall, or how and when you’re gonna land, and I gotta tell you, Friends, to stop thinking about the landing, because it’s all about falling.”—John Green (via compassio)
We are all going to fall in love more than a thousand times in this lifetime. We are all capable of it. The first boy I loved did not know my name. But I loved him simple - in the same way I used to love watermelon and horses. There was nothing rough about this - I did not force my love into his hands and he did not take it away from me, but he laid down continents inside my hands — and they burned against the lines of my palms. They were like galaxies forming in between the gaps of all my fingers — stars pouring out like coffee beans from my grandmothers woven baskets. There is potential there, balled up inside my fists, and I want to shake it to the skies or maybe shake open a few hearts with it. This is how I remember love - as dirt and oceans and mud laid out inside my palms. And it grows - and then it stops and grows and stops and goes like everything else in the same way that water flows.