i love the broken.
i love the broken. the ones that come 1/2 done to the party and uncertain of what to expect. i love the ones that wear the costume and forget their identify in it. i love the ones that push on the treadmill when their hearts are about to explode. i love the ones that show up when the situation is awkward and just do the nervous smile because it’s what they had in the bag at the time. i love the ones that jump into the cold water that one time because it had to be done. i love the ones that start a blog and slowly open up to show their friends what’s inside. i love the ones that quit their jobs and go off course. i love the ones that travel alone, not because they prefer to be alone but because they couldn’t wait. i love the ones that dare to call and talk. I love the ones that pass on an emotional quote or lesson because they know that your bush needs rattling.
i love the broken. the ones that talk about intense things over coffee and tea. i love the ones that want to walk into the fire. i love the ones that can see the fight in you, before you know it’s there. i love the ones push you into the cold shower once they have seen it. i love the ones that hug; that know how to hug and dare to do it. that know how crack open.
i love the broken that constantly shift, change, fall and pick the pieces back up with humility and peace. the ones that hurt, the ones that grow. the ones that fear the dark room, but jump into it. i love the broken and wish to be broken forever. living and feeling until there is nothing left to reach, learn, or love.
(inspired by the flinch, blogs, thoughtcatalog, http://silvieandmaryl.com
, marcellachamorro.com and everything else that makes you uncomfortable about not moving forward)