The only romance worth fighting for is the one with yourself.

This is a book about how it really is possible to grow through heartbreak. Enter like a child and exit like an adult. Really, truly feeling it.

I asked him why he’s so scared to commit and he said he’s not scared to commit, he’s just not in the mood to commit to me because he’s committed to himself, and I knew in that instant I wanted him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I wanted to be with him, but I also wanted to be him, replace myself with him and find a girl like me who look at me like I looked at him when he said that.

When someone's success makes you as happy as if it were your own, you know you've found someone worth holding on to.

This year has taught me the simple craft of belief. I believe in the things I’ve nurtured and built this year. Slowly but carefully. Such as understanding, knowledge, passion, strength; the hundreds of songs I’ve written, the 365 poems, the books I’ve read and the miles I’ve run. The resolution to breathe, to meditate, to not harm my mind or body even when I’ve felt like it. 

Fear is the thing that makes the heart grow.

Love. I will choose love. And I’m scared and shy, of everyone and everything, to make a fool of myself; to be laughed at; to not be what people would like me to be. But I will choose love because that’s the sort of person I want to be.

I am slowly coming to the conclusion that it’s more important to learn to work with what you’ve got, under the circumstances you’ve been given, than wishing for different ones.

Everything changed when I switched from saying “I have to do this” to “I GET to do this”. When I started viewing my art as a way to serve instead of building for my own profit. When I tried to meet people with an open heart and a will to love them instead of guarding my own history of solitude and brokenness. Dedication. Giving. Loving. That is the goal.