The Mountain Between Us

You laid your head against me, staring up, and pressed my hand flat across your chest, you in the center of my palm. Hiding nothing. Your heart pounding inside. You said, “…of this.”

you’re still the measuring stick. No one else holds a candle.

You are—and always will be—the home for my heart.

Somewhere in the miles that followed, sweat flinging off my fingertips, salt stinging my eyes, my breath deep, rhythmic, and clean, my feet barely touching the ground, I looked down and found the pieces of me melting into one.

Broken people just need piecing back together.

being lost with you is better than being found and alone.

Honesty’s never been a problem. Selfishness? Yes. Honesty? No

Being tempted and doing it are two different things.

Hope. It circulates in our veins. It’s what fuels us.”

Once a heart breaks…it doesn’t just grow back. It’s not a lizard’s tail. It’s more like a huge stained glass that shattered into a million pieces, and it’s not going back together