A. Walsh

“Dear Human:You've got it all wrong.You didn't come here to master unconditional love. This is where you came from and where you'll return.You came here to learn personal love.Universal love.Messy love.Sweaty Love.Crazy love.Broken love.Whole love.Infused with divinity.Lived through the grace of stumbling.Demonstrated through the beauty of... messing up.Often.You didn't come here to be perfect, you already are.You came here to be gorgeously human. Flawed and fabulous.And rising again into remembering.But unconditional love? Stop telling that story.Love in truth doesn't need any adjectives.It doesn't require modifiers.It doesn't require the condition of perfection.It only asks you to show up.And do your best.That you stay present and feel fully.That you shine and fly and laugh and cry and hurt and heal and fall and get back up and play and work and live and die as YOU.Its enough.It's Plenty.””

“I love you,""A crazy fucking amount.""I love you, too –""Most in the world.””

“It’s nothing as flashy as you’re used to from Ricey,” he warned when he climbed back into bed and tossed a small black jewelry box on the mattress between us, along with a half-melted packet of Rolos. My heart fluttered. “A whole pack just for me?” He winked. “I told you I would. And if you don’t like the other thing, then it’s tough shit because Shannon washed the receipt with my clothes.” Excited, I snatched up the box and flipped the lid open. Resting against the velvet padding interior was a tiny silver locket with the date 30.08.99 on the front. “That date…” I blew out a shaky breath. “It’s”