the nights you are most tempted to be broken are the nights you are most capable of true love.
An acute appreciation for beauty. Romanticism. Finding something so evocative that I have no choice but to be moved. Knowing that this is the best thing I have ever known. Even if I’m not quite sure what it is. The feeling that seizes me when I look at the blackest face the night can muster and forget what it is to feel the sun on my face, but decide that that’s alright for now. When I feel so purely the desperately sad cry of a violin silhouetted by the hardest times in my life. When I look across the frozen landscape, chilled to the bone, and nevertheless linger for a few extra seconds to marvel at what the world can be.
…under the green umbrella trees in the middle of summer. <3