this is not the end.

It will steal your innocence. But it will not steal your substance.
-Mumford & Sons-

I crave simplicity. The moonlight jumping from dancing branches of palm trees. The silence of my bedroom on a Saturday morning, with a mug of green tea with honey. The first chords of my favorite song and the excitement of my heart.

I am strong and full of life.

The unique knock on my door that tells me my best friend is waiting on the other side. Collapsing in a fit of giggles. Walking on the cement wall next to the canal, sandals in my hands. Sitting in front of a huge church at night, looking up at the stars, consumed by how small I am and how big He must be.

I am STRONG. And full of life.

Lots of whipped cream. Lots and lots and lots. Butterflies in expected places. Or expected places. Waterfalls.

There’s this Pennsylvania woods where I grew up that has captured my heart. Just one step into the woods and you’re consumed by a magic far beyond you. The trees engulf you and the trails pull your feet deeper and deeper. The lush moss and the craggy roots creating peaks and valleys and the sounds of the stream…

Every part of this place called out to my inmost being, romancing my thoughts and filling my heart with desire. I want to run, to fly…anything could happen within the folds of the branches. The mystery of the wind blowing through you hair…where had it come from? Where was it going?

There was one tree on a steep hill. My heart longs for that tree right now. Anything could happen at that tree.

And in the winter, the snow covered everything. Even with its deception, it was beautiful. It was pure.

I’m not really writing about anything today. But I’m writing about everything.

Love will set you free. Free to breathe. Free to run. There won’t be weight, there won’t be heaviness.

But what happens when fear stands in the way? I want to go back to the woods, to let it be simple. To breathe in the open air. To be a little girl, wide eyed with wonder.

But even as a little girl, I craved adventure. I wanted more. And now that adventure beckons, I want to run back under my covers.

I am strong and full of life. It’s become a mantra, running through my brain on repeat.

My heart yearns to be known. Beyond anything superficial, I want to be looked to be looked at and told that I won’t ever be abandoned. Isn’t that what we all want?

So here I stand, outside of the grave, my bruised heart clinging to the hope that nothing is beyond restoration, that fear maybe doesn’t actually get to win this time. Maybe there’s more than what is seen.

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