Sometimes heartache can make us feel the most alive.

It is painfully beautiful.

To know we can hurt so bad, feel so much, fall so hard and still stand up. 

To feel like your pain can move mountains, erupt volcanoes, and start raging hurricanes of passion and tears within you. 

To care so much about something or someone that you can’t eat or sleep or even breathe when they’re gone.
I think to truly feel the great depths of our love is to feel it when it is absent or lost.

To feel the hollow emptiness it leaves behind.

To stare into an abyss of all that we miss.

There is nothing more raw, more real, more humanizing then the sadness of feeling alone.

And that sadness has it’s own kind of beauty.

A hunting kind of beauty.