Longing, Love, Words

Fool

The prospect of love reduces me into a manic fool. But how can I not be one, when it is the greatest desire, the biggest longing of my godforsaken heart.

How desperate my clutch becomes, how embarrassing.

But love is my desire, my greatest longing and I can’t help but to become a fool for it.

– written months ago, when I first met him.

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Love, Musings

When love is here. 

I’ve written pages and pages about love and desire. I’ve stayed up late nights thinking about what it means. 

But now that love is here – living and pulsating in my hands – two eyes and a heartbeat; what do I do with it? 

I’m so afraid of breaking it. 

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Consecration, Process, Trials, Wilderness

I do believe, please help my unbelief.

I miss the days of simple faith. Everything is so much easier when you “just believe”. So much more beautiful. 

How I envy those who have not gone through the fires of doubt. 

Here I stand now in these fires. They lick and eat away at me from every side. Will I come out unscathed and stronger, or will they burn me away to waste? 

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Love, Musings, Poetry, Words

A Short Story

“You are like a dancing dream, full of bright lights and colors and explosion. I could watch you all day and when you speak I never want to stop listening. You make me fall in love without even trying, and you don’t even know it.” 

I wrote this ages ago. I never share little pieces like in the moment – it feels too vulnerable. But when it has all passed and when my heart has settled.. the stories become easier to tell. 

He made such a mark on my heart. It was a very brief and fragile time, but I catch myself missing it every single day. 

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Love, Musings, Poetry

Wishful Thinking

Coffee, hope, poetry. I don’t know if I’d read it somewhere, but these three words keep ringing wistfully in my head lately. Perhaps it is because they are representative of the things that tug at my heart the most in this life. Oh would we all be so lucky to have our days filled with drawn out coffee conversations, quiet hope and beautiful poetry that makes sense of it all. What else could one ask for. Perhaps it is the simplest things that mean the most after all. 

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