Sister to Sister

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To my sister:

First, how did it happen? How did you go from putting your bangs in a colita, to using hair straighteners, and MAC Cosmetics? How is it possible to hold on to time so that you can stay this way forever? If I could, I’d stop it. Right now.¬†There are so many things left unsaid each and every day. So here’s my way of summarizing it, before you grow up even more. Continue reading

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What Does Love Mean to Me?

Love. What a lousy word for such a strange feeling. But really, its not just a feeling. I must confess it is also a state of being. A place. A person. A thing. Love is a noun, but much more. Love is where you want to be. Where you need to be. Where your heart wants you at. Love is everything and anything you want and do not want. Love is so much more than we can handle. Yes, we. 

Love is a confusing place. You don’t really know when you’re there, until you actually fall on your ass and bruise your heart. You don’t ever really know when it happened, it just did. Some way, some how.

“We fall in love like we fall asleep. Slowly, then all at once.”

John Green. He was so right, and still is.

Love is a place where you don’t mind the the rhythm being off beat. Where you can be there all day to hear the waves crash onto shore and splash you with the coldest water, only to hit you back into reality. That’s what love is. Love is cold, but yet warm. Too cold to make you bitter and too warm to burn your insides. Only you get to decide what love truly is, and how it will make you. Inside and out.

To me, love is when you can sleep at night knowing you have the best out there. Love is satisfaction. Its illumination. Its charm. Love is never wanting to let go even though you know someday you’ll have to. Love is hand holding until your hands sweat, until your knuckles turn red and the in between of your fingers become sore. Love is not giving a damn what is done in public. What is said, or what is expressed. Love is a place we’re all afraid of entering, because we all know one day we’ll have to exit.

We are afraid to love because we are afraid to hate. We are afraid to hate what we once loved-who we once loved.

Love is giving everything to someone – and I mean EVERYTHING; more than you thought you had…knowing that it is very possible you won’t get the same in return. Love is getting out there and doing that something no one would have seen you do. Love is a place we want to test all of our senses. A place where we die to be in, yet live for it. Love is thinking there is a happily ever after. Love is not giving to shits of what the outsiders say or hear. Love is a rumor waiting to be investigated Love is knowing you will get hurt but there you are swimming with the sharks. That’s what love is. Careless. Wild. Free. Scary. Who am I kidding? Love is fucking frightening. Its a place we are too young to be in, too old to try, and just right to give it a shot.

Love is nothing written above. Love is what YOU want it to be. But to me, Love is a place I am dying to go to. A psalm I am dying to listen to. A taste my tongue is dying to savor. A smell my nostrils are waiting to come by.

Love is wanting to be wanted. Love is being desired in all ways shapes and forms.

Love is my friend, but yet my enemy. Love is my life, but yet it kills me. Love is not being able to control the flames coming out of me. Love is nothing that everyone says it is. Love is something no one could ever give an explanation to. No one, but yourself.

Love is waiting for you to let it in, no matter how much time you fall and get bruised. Love is precious. Hang on to it. And if you don’t know if what you have is love, hang on to it more. Because love is the unknowing.

Love only hits you once. Once. Only if you’re lucky. Only.

TBC…

-Danna