Marisa Donnelly

According to legend, Kate Morgan, a woman who checked into the Hotel del Coronado In 1892 never checked out.

You will always be the words I never had to say, the promises you spoke to life with your lips—that no matter where we went, or how far apart, we would always be each other’s.

Today, tomorrow, and the day after next, I’ve chosen to see the road ahead as a promise of hope. Of possibility. And I’m going to trust that path—wherever it may lead.

Because tomorrow is a new day.

As the sound shifts and blends I find myself singing the words at the top of my lungs, my body unconsciously moving beneath me. Effortless. Alive.

What could be better than spending your Halloween rocking your favorite costume, being surrounded by friends and strangers in unity and celebration, and dancing until you drop (while almost peeing your pants at the terrifying sounds and attractions around the venue)? The answer is nothing.

I’d rather be broken than sit in a bubble and watch the world pass me by. I’d rather get hurt than never know how it feels to touch the hands of a person who loves me. I’d rather fail then never try to build a foundation with someone, or start a project, or believe in a dream.

I’m taking your hand and walking by your side. I’m acknowledging that this road ahead is one that I have no control over, and I’m accepting that for what it is—an adventure, our adventure.

A man who loves you won’t darken your brilliance, but let your two souls—together—illuminate the sky.

I will not let the worldly trials weaken me to the point that I forget the one who created me.

You’re totally fine, and then it hits. The pain. The agony. The sobbing into your best friend’s blouse at 3AM, surrounded by pizza crust and empty beer bottles.

Maybe, of all the characteristics and descriptions of the world, I want something that reflects my spirit, my heart, my tenacity and lust for life.