Soon I realized that nothing comes easy with love. Sometimes we aren’t always meant to be no matter how hard we try and other times we didn’t try hard enough. Sometimes we fall into love and then we fall out of it the same way we came in, crashing hard, burning, hurting, pain. I wish I could believe that love was an easy thing, I wish I could believe we’d meet again at a coffee shop in thirty years with lives of our own and realize we should have been together all along. I guess I’m wishing for a false reality that you only see on the big screen, you only read in fairytale stories. For those afraid of love I understand why, I understand that the one who told you she loved you the most and promised to never leave was the one who left you bare and cold and freezing on that December night. She left you on your doorstep, the same place you met, the same place she told you she wanted to stay. She wanted to stay but she’s up and left and all that’s left of her is her scent and those memories. Love is gone. Love is lost. You are lost.

It's what's in the night sky on mid-July evenings that reminds us to keep searching for beauty. The stars don't fear yesterday's sadness or the morning clouds that loom over the sky, covering the sun and all it's beauty, the stars are always just as bright. The stars remind us to keep searching, the milky way reminds us that there is hope for something bigger and better and even the little stars who shine a little less bright, remind us that we're still important even when we seem small. I hope you find what you're looking for. I hope your wish upon that shooting star comes true.

Today was a much better day than yesterday. Today brought new rains washing away yesterday's sins. The rain washed away my tears that dripped along 17th streets corner slowly, flowing, gone. This morning was easier to rise from beneath the covers, the morning's before I didn’t want to face the sun. I drank tea this afternoon and I read a book, something I hadn't done in awhile, and for a few hours I felt at peace. Finally, at peace.

I hung the pressed flowers on my wall today, the ones you gave me last spring. I don’t know why I hung them because all they do is remind me of you but, they look nice where I put them and they still have a rosy smell. A way of being. As they sit there I wonder if they feel lonely like me, I wonder if they miss your touch and the way you handled them carefully, just like you did with me. They are fragile and so am I. I wish I were like a flower who deserved a soft touch from beautiful humans and baths of sugar and fallen leaves.

I want honey and fresh roses at my doorstep but only from you. Is it wrong that I don’t want to be loved by anyone but you? I’m afraid I’ll get hurt again because the last boy with curly brown hair left me in the dirt for me to swallow pain meds and anxiety pills just to make it through. I'm sorry if I’ll never again be able to open up to love again as I did with him, I don’t want you to turn into a stranger who holds my darkest secrets. I want you to love me like rainbows after a storm and soft kittens cuddling up to say goodnight. I want you to love me. Love me.