Today I am happy. Happy in a way that I havent been in a long while, the kind of happy that creeps up on you, that starts deep within your soul and spreads outwards like hot chocolate on a wintry day. The kind of happy that no amount of i-had-a-crappy-day-ness can kill (and by all accounts I did have a crappy day) and I'm writing this here, because moments like these are so rare, and I want to remember it. I want to remember what it feels like to be hopeful, and excited, and grateful to be alive.

Today I am happy.

The distance, it is killing us. Up here I see everything, so sharp and clear and beautiful it makes my teeth ache and my eyes hurt and my ears sting with the sound of absence. So close, so close I can almost feel you, you are almost here - but you are only almost, and I am still lost. 

We are neither of us free.

Redefining Beauty

So let me tell you what I think beautiful is. What real, deep, inner beauty is. Beautiful is the woman who keeps her head up and is proud of her body, just as it is. Beautiful is the man who has to hide his gay lover from his judgmental parents, but who loves, regardless of what the world will think. Beautiful are the women who buy the jeans that fit them, not the ones they hope will fit one day; the people who wear what they want because they like it. Beautiful are the people who choose love. Beautiful are the people who allow their bodies to be their temples and canvases, and who create their outer beings to reflect their inner. Beautiful are the people who hurt and feel insecure and make mistakes—but rise above, and find confidence and admit when they’re wrong. Beautiful is you and me. Beautiful is everyday. Beautiful is the struggle and the triumph, and beautiful is the understanding how necessary the struggle was. Remember that the next time you feel hopeless. Beautiful is loving yourself enough to know you’re worth more than feeling inadequate. 

- Thoughtcatalog

You were supposed to be just another person.

You meet a person. Maybe you meet at a party, maybe it was a friend's friend, maybe you meet in school, between lunch and running to classes. Anyway, you meet a person, a person like any other person.

But then you hit it off, maybe you talk, maybe you eat, catch a movie.
Maybe you realize you enjoy his company.

Days turn to weeks, one date turns to three, then five, then you stop counting.
That's when you know he's now part of your life.

Then you have a crappy day, your boss yells at you, you trip over your own left feet.
Or you have a great day, you saw a funny man selling balloons on the street.
And you find yourself reaching for that phone, and find yourself saying "guess what happened today?"

Suddenly, an ordinary meal, an ordinary day, he looks at you, in an extraordinary way.
Your heart flutters, you feel like an age old cliché.

Then it happens, he tells you he loves you. Asks you to be his. Can you do this, you wonder? Before you know it, you've taken that leap, it's too late to ponder. Your world shifts, your heart is full. You live for two now, not just you.

Then he leaves. "We can do this" he says. We can love from 9,000 miles away.
You believe him, not because you want to, but because you have to.

At first it's ok. You have a full life, with friends and goals and things to do. Between the skype calls and msges, between the whispered words and easy conversations, you start to think this could work. We can make this work. We can make up in emotions what we lack in physical presence. We can build a relationship on cherished words, sweet letters and imagination.

Then comes a rainy day. It's pouring outside. You're huddled on the couch, and out of nowhere you find yourself thinking, I wish he was here. You look down at the arms you've wrapped around yourself, desperately wishing they were his. You lean back against the soft cushion wondering why it isnt his chest you're leaning on.

Then you realize, the world had shifted from beneath your feet, where you used to be the centre of gravity, there is only him now. He who pulls you together, he who orders your world. Without him, nothing makes sense. You walk around, living only half a life, cast out into space. Like the crescent moon, half of you is in shadows; a present absence you can't ignore.

You wake up in the morning and where his arms should be, all you find is nothing. You walk to class, and where his fingers should be, holding yours, all you find is nothing. When you laugh, and you turn to share the joke, where his face should be, all you find is nothing.

Everywhere that his eyes, his lips, his nose, his ears, his smile should be, all you find is nothing.

Just nothing.

But the human heart was not made to exist like that. The human heart exists to be whole, complete, and entirely self-sufficient. And slowly, the pain and emptiness turns to blame and resentment. You start to think, this is supposed to be the best time of my life, this is when I'm supposed to be most alive.

You think, I'm not supposed to feel empty and missing. I'm not supposed to live, wishing every minute of every day, that you were here. I'm not supposed to live, counting down days, hours, seconds, wondering why time can't seem to past fast enough.

I'm supposed to live. Passionately, wholly, wildly, madly, with all of me. Not just the bits you left me with.

I'm tired of telling you I miss you. I'm tired of missing you.

Who would have thought, it all started with meeting a person, a person just like any other person.