It’s okay to be a little in love. And a little not.

I think we all are.

I think maybe without even consciously realizing it, our hearts are always breaking. Breaking a bit for the things we can’t change, a little more for the people that slip us by, a centimeter deeper for the places we won’t see. 
Breaking for that six year old feeling of falling asleep on a summer night with wet hair that still smells like baby shampoo. Breaking for when you are fifteen and you are wishing to be all the things you are not. For a world to be more soft like periwinkle than cold like blue. Breaking at nineteen for a planet that is spinning without you.

We fall into a kaleidoscope of pieces like rainy days April’s bring for keepsakes. But we will pick them up and mend as we go. I think that’s life, love, and everything in between.

Sometimes you fall in love with the things you’re not supposed to. The people you were not meant for. The places you can’t stay.

It’s like falling for a stranger. But perhaps at one point we were all strangers in a time and moment of unfamiliarity. And maybe even then, we were all still a little in love.