vero's 3rd vol: a love letter for you, for me

I look at pictures of myself to remind myself I'm also human. I'm beautiful, and deserving of those thoughts, feelings, and compassion I tend to give out so freely. How can I reserve some for myself? I'll give any stranger a shoulder to cry on, yet struggle to feel comfort under my own tears. Why?

I take pictures of myself so I can see what others see. I think I like what they see.

I met a gentle man whose feelings radiate through the screen. Despite the consistently honest exchanges, I see beyond the words he so carefully chooses to convey his emotions or thoughts. I see beyond the choices, I see beyond his reality. He reminds me somewhat of a past version of myself I've left behind yet think of often.

He has a craving I can't fulfill, and he can't place. I take his words and cradle them. They're soft and filled with melancholic confusion. I carry them until I can unravel the confusion and return a clearer version. I wish I was better at cradling.

Budweiser's not that bad

Sunsets are still beautiful without you

I don't miss you anymore, but I do think of you at times. I hope your mom is well.

I want to experience it all, every dot on the spectrum. There's a spectrum for everything and I want to glide up and down. I want the pain, the hunger, the love, the joy. I want it all, is that selfish? When I'm done crying, I chuckle. Another experience down, and an infinite amount to go.

I love the little things.

Yes, I'd love to see your new haircut. Show me your grocery store haul! Let's analyze those texts together. Do you want to play a game?

Big things are few and far between, it's the little things that keep you alive. Once the logs are set and the fire's burning, it's the tinder that keeps it going.

Anyone can get to know me, but true love is felt through the little things. That's what keeps me warm.