Sometimes I think that to stay open is the hardest thing.

Sometimes I think that I can’t stand the messiness of being human- the insincerity, the insecurity, the never-arriving, the always-changing. Sometimes I think I want a love that has no fear in it, something impossibly neat, something tidy and flawless. This is my great failing, the belief that a thing can be tidy and flawless. … Continue reading Sometimes I think that to stay open is the hardest thing.