love

I love tomatoes a little more than I used to because of a poem my best friend wrote. I paint landscapes because that’s what my grandpa on my dad’s side used to paint before arthritis froze his fingers. I love the color blue a little more than I used to because it’s my other best friend’s middle name. I love the spring because my grandpa on my mom’s... See more

If you loved someone, even for a little, it’s because you knew them. And if someone loved you, even for a little, it’s because they knew you. The knowledge of that remains eternal.

Honey, I really don’t care what you have to do in order to return to a feeling of love. In your scariest moments, you have my permission to find me however you need to find me. And if “finding love” means scarfing down a box of cereal on a scary night alone in a hotel room in a foreign country, then you better believe that I was inside that box of

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Thu, on What Would You Tell Your Younger Self About Love? :

I would tell myself to not believe the dramatic stories I've been told and sold (which were mostly white, cishet stories that never quite applied to me). I would tell myself to look closer to home, to see the smaller, constant stories of love. I spent yesterday building my father's altar o... See more

Love demands a complete inner transformation — for without this we cannot possibly come to identify ourselves with our brother. We have to become, in some sense, the person we love. And this involves a kind of death of our own being, our own self.