subject line: the art of letting go.


louisville, kentucky 

While she is picking out flowers for their future wedding and pinning expensive engagement ring photos and imagining an elaborate go-to-the-ends of the earth honeymoon, I’m sitting across from him in the library at 1:00 on a rainy Tuesday afternoon. Twin computers mirroring each other, both studying for art history finals, sweatpants-clad, green eyes colliding with the blue of mine making the sea, gut-busting, head on the table laughing over the littlest of things.

And this—this is enough.

I don’t need elaborate displays of affection. I just want someone who’s going to stay, someone who makes the mundane feel extraordinary.

It bothers me that it can’t be him because there’s a her. I’m a novice when it comes to the art of letting go.