Lovely.
"Love sucks. I’m not 13 years old and talking about the boy on the football team that I have a crush on. I’m in love with everyone. Everyone. Everything. The ones who stick around and the dying and the hidden and the close and the far and one word and paragraphs and novels. All of you. The ones who love you too much and not enough and the ones that you cry over and the ones you laugh out 3 words because that’s all you can say and the ones that you write novels on and the ones who you call at 4 a.m. and the ones you don’t speak with and the ones who don’t say anything. The ones who check up on you and the ones who forget and the ones who say too much and the ones you miss. The ones who don’t say anything and the ones who say everything. The lonely and the popular and the mean and the lovely and the ones in the pictures on your wall and the ones in your dreams at night. The ones that are taken from you before you’re ready and the ones that walk out your door. The second chances and the blank faces and the nameless and the ones you know all about. Life does terrible fucking things. It throws you on tre ground and challenges you to get back up and push it down under you. And no one realizes that love is all you have. It’s all you have. Your ability to love and the amount you hand it out. That’s all anything ever comes down to. You have absolutely nothing else on this earth except your capacity for love. It doesn’t matter how much money you have or what job or what kind of house or your size or your face or your weight or your history or your past or your family or your scars or your stories. You have to throw yourself at everyone. You just have to. Because for all you know, you could be the only one reaching out. Doors are going to close and people are going to leave you. It’s going to happen and you can’t change it and you can’t fix it and you can’t bring them back. All that ever matters in your whole lifetime is that you loved as many things as you possibly can. How can you not? Fall in love with the girl at the checkout at Target and the boy who stood behind you in line and the woman who’s always waiting at the train station and your neighbor who doesn’t go out much and the crying baby on the plane the boy who died who you read about in the newspaper. How can you afford to keep anything inside of you when there are so many perfect things on this earth? Everything is empty and your job is to fill it up. And it’s going to hurt sometimes. It’s going to make you cry and yell and get angry and hate. But if it hurts at least you know you’re doing it right."
-Lainey Lamonto