When we look at each other, we all see the most stunning and the most terrible parts of each other, depending on our lenses. They correspond like equal sides of the same butterfly, and you cannot choose which you get, even though you can still call both beautiful. My heroes are the people I love most. Some people’s heroes are the people that they love most that they do not know, mine are simply friends or family or even strangers that I admire. Every time that someone has called me inconsistent, it is usually because of consistencies that they have made themselves too blind to see. The love is greater than all of our screw ups, mine included. But this is game that is very hard and somewhat dangerous, loving people. I like this blog, it’s like a chapter of my life I can devote to accepting certain given truths and moving forward, so that others might understand some day if they choose (knowing that answers aren’t mine). My heroes include the people I have not met yet, they include the people whose names and faces and significant attributes and personalities have become forgotten in the soup of my mind. I still love them, and yet, I know longer know them. That is okay.
The thing about love is that it outlasts all of it. It is only scary if you let it be. Stability is overrated somewhat, by the Grass-is-greeners, and living your life is equally hard and strange no matter your circumstances if we are talking about living it well. God loves us all the same. It boils down to whether or not you will appreciate what you have or will chase after what you do not have so long you forget to love what was already there. I cannot fix people, or change them, or heal them, or do anything, but I pray that God would intervene when I ask (hence, prayer). Apart from that, we are all the same, and it’s beautiful to be the same. My hope is that other people will see it that way too. In the meantime, I am grateful to be alive.