Hm… I don’t know how I feel about this one, but I felt mildly inspired to write something after a monthlong drought, so I figured I’d milk it for all it was worth.

There’s wonder in feeling too much too often, a sort of pride in reveling in your own pain and soaking up every awful moment of it. This hurts, you say, but god, it hurts so good. I mean, sure, you spend more time crumpled in bed, broken under the weight of the universe than actually functioning, but isn’t this worth it? Maybe the heartbreak hits you harder than a train, and maybe you never quite recovered from that unspeakable night, but oh god, soft kisses make you weak at the knees, and love makes the whole world twenty times brighter. Everything hurts, a constant weight that goes hand in hand with your existence, but I think the pain makes the perfect moments so much sweeter.