you are dependable, patient, gentle, and sweet.

you calm me down - hold my hands still when I can’t stop picking at my nails and rub my back in slow circles when my voice gets shaky.

it’s been a while now

- not enough, but a while -

and you still notice when I curl my hair or put on eyeshadow, and you call me pretty in a small, quiet voice, like you still have a crush.

You are quick to forgive, quick to forget, quick to love.

You soften my sharpness,

sew me up when I am spilling out,

sit by my side when I am sad.

You kiss me just to kiss me, and you hold my hand just to hold my hand - nothing more, nothing less, a simple touch.

You are never critical, always selfless, and reaching for humility.

You have seen the ugly bits and pieces by now, and still you stay.

Goofy when you want to be and dependable always.

When I catch you looking at me and smiling softly, with your eyes crinkled in that sweet way that they do,

I feel an entirety of love abounding from my heart,

and it tells me that I am fully known and

fully loved,

and it tells me that I can sleep,

close my eyes and breathe out

in the comfort

and in the steadiness

that there is someone who is there

and who loves me

and who is mine

and I am his.

Growing up, on any important school day, my dad would stand outside of our house and wave as my brothers and I would head to school. And every time, without fail, he would pick up our dog Shiloh, hold her in his arms, and wave her paw around like she was also saying goodbye. Even when I had to turn around to see it, there they would be - both my dad and Shiloh waving goodbye, wishing me good luck on the day ahead.

Years later, this week, I visited home from college. The day I had to return to school, both my parents were out, and only my younger brother was there to say goodbye. I got in the car and backed out of the driveway, and when I looked back - saw my little brother, awkwardly holding happy old Shiloh in his arms, both of them waving goodbye. They stayed until I drove out of sight, wishing me good luck on my day ahead.

There are some family traditions - simple, sweet, and small - that come out of nowhere, surprise you, and mean a whole lot more than you planned for.

I don't plan on too much in the future - but I do know that whatever family I end up with, I will wave them goodbye, and wish them good luck on their day ahead.

I knew I was in love with you when I decided I wanted to paint my kitchen green. When I pictured a big backyard with color splattered everywhere, flowers and grass and trees filling up all spaces. And when I imagined sipping coffee in yellow mugs, shared happily in the morning time.

I know that I'm in love because when I think of my future, I paint you right into it.

I've always planned for the future, obviously: I'd hope to have a nice job, a healthy, large family, a happy life. But I've never hoped for the future, have never imagined my future so vividly, without limits - I think our future together is limitless. And I'm not saying that, with you, my future will be grand or illustrious or large, but that you're all I need to have a simple, happy, hopeful life.

So I imagine a home with a tiny green kitchen, and us in it, maybe making pancakes on a Sunday morning, and I know I am in love.

I grew up homesick, even when I was at home. I would be sitting at the dinner table, surrounded by family, when this feeling of acute unbelonging would sink into my chest. I'd lose focus of what was going on around me and stare at the clock suspended over my kitchen oven and desperately try to come up with what I was missing.

What am I missing?? It was unmistakenly homesickness - the same feeling I would get at a sleepover that would make my eyes well up with tears and call my mom, asking if she could please come pick me up. Only this time I was seventeen, and my mom sat right beside me.

Sometimes the feeling would go away, and I could go about my day ignoring what happened. Other times it seemed to never leave, and I simply swallowed my homesickness and felt it harden in my chest. And I learned to walk around with a hardened, lumpy, stale feeling inside of my gut that I simply did not belong.

I would feel homesick at my house, at my school, surrounded by friends, anywhere. And it was always the same thing. Losing focus on what's going on around me, voices fading, a weight sinking into my chest and hardening, feeling alone and not knowing why.

And I really really dislike myself for this. My parents love me so much, I have friends that care about me, there is no reason why I felt like this.

My freshman year of college I met a boy, and my homesickness went away for a while. We would go on drives through the mountains, windows down, his hand on my thigh, my hand cutting waves through the wind as I hung it out the window. I would turn my head to him, and he'd already be looking at me, softly smiling. We would lay in bed together, and I would trace the freckles on his back as delicately as I could, sometimes with my hands and sometimes with my lips.

It's my second year of college now and nothing has changed. I still date him and I still love him. But now, there are times where I will be sleeping in his arms and wake up, a heavy feeling slowly sinking into my chest. And I feel homesick again.

And I guess at this point, I've come to the conclusion that wherever I go, whoever I'm with, I don't belong.

i check the weather where you are

it makes me feel close to you.

i wanna know what you think of

when you hear the raindrops on the roof.

and when sunshine hits my face

i think about your skin on mine.

because whenever i had sunny days

you were always by my side.

I miss you most in the mornings. I wake up, and there is sunshine flickering into the room, and I can hear birds singing, and I wish you were waking up next to me. I want to start my days with you.

Or maybe I miss you most when I’m outside - listening to new music, looking at fresh, blooming flowers, wondering if you would find them pretty, too. I want to share all the things I find beautiful with you.

I also might miss you most when I’m feeling goofy, and I want to dance around to no music and sing off tune, as loudly as I can. Because whenever I want to laugh with someone, I want to laugh with you.

I could also miss you most in the middle of the night. In those moments where I filter in and out of dreams, and I wake up just for a few seconds, automatically wondering where you are. How much I wish to be next to you and close to you, feel your skin on mine.

When I am happy, you make my happiness even sweeter. When I’m sad, all I want is a hug from you. I just want to be with you.

I don't think I'm meant to be here -

but no one will say.

it's a life that consists of

telling myself "one more day."

I don't need to be here

but what would people say

what would they think if i went on my way

today, i looked at myself naked for the first time. well, not really. but it was the first in many ways - without criticism, without judgement, and with love. i tried not to compare myself with the types of bodies i see on magazine covers, but to view my body with a filter of love.

all my life i have viewed myself through a filter of criticism. to change, it was difficult, but refreshing. i looked at the girl in the mirror and saw a vulnerable face, and i called it beautiful. i admired the objective beauty of certain characteristics and the subjective beauty of others. from the fingertips to the stomach to the collarbone, i called out the beauty in each figure - and more importantly, i called out the use. that this body has housed me, has moved me, and has loved me. it was my turn to love it.

today, i looked at myself naked for the first time, and it was difficult, but refreshing.

I love taking things slow with you. i feel like it's a promise. a promise of time, of the future. there is nothing to rush or to hurry through. only us and time. we do not have to do everything today because there is always tomorrow. a promise of tomorrow. I want all my tomorrows to be with you.