There would still be love.
If the world crumbled, if there were no money, no food, no shelter, no hope for any kind of longevity of life, there would still be love. In the midst of fear, of uncertainty, of restlessness, there is love. When pain and sadness and hopelessness threatens to consume you, there’s still love. When you can’t muster the strength to find your own, use mine.
I’m reminded of you in so many ways. It’s both comforting and irritating, to finally get you out of my head, only to be reminded that I miss you once more.
I find you everywhere.
In the stillness, I can feel your heartbeat pressed up against my brain. Like we are one, but undone. I feel you on the wet morning grass, gently yielding and warmed by the sun. You are the musical notes haunting my first moments of sleep, the cool breeze that brushes my shoulders, and the moon that follows me home at night. You are invisible yet tangible, close, but not nearly close enough.