Marisa Donnelly

I was terrified about going home for Valentine’s Day weekend. This trip had the potential of getting my mind (and body) out of awkward, what-am-I-going-to-do-with-my-life situations. But it could also be a reminder of how utterly single I was. I was twenty-two and hanging out with my parents. SOS.

You must have brown hair, because he’s partial to brunettes.

Sure, you can comfort this person and teach them what real love is, but you cannot change their mindset.

If you are the wind
then I am stretching
myself across you,
with you
weightless
arms open, like sails.

We can’t spend our days obsessing over this future, hasn’t-even-happened-yet, somewhere-off-in-the-distance relationship because we won’t be present in the now.

You are a woman, a Feminist who stands for the purity of her own body. You don’t find sex with multiple men liberating or empowering. And that is absofreakinglutely okay.

“If you can’t have a conversation with her at 7 in the morning, when she has no makeup on, it’s lust.”

The way that every day was a new adventure.

Listening to the sounds of nature.

I have too much heart, to a flaw. In my relationships, I care so incredibly. When I love, I fall completely, fully, fearlessly. And when my heart is broken, I forgive, let go, and continue loving because that is who I am. Who I’ll always be.

Like you’re underwater, trying to speak, but your words come out mumbled and off-key and you keep opening your mouth and it fills with water so you can’t speak. And the person you love is just floating, slowing sinking down, down.

A feather is a reminder that you are not alone.