I’m tired of living unable to love anyone. I don’t have a single friend - not one. And, worst of all, I can’t even love myself. Why is that? Why can’t I love myself? It’s because I can’t love anyone else. A person learns how to love himself through the simple acts of loving and being loved by someone else. Do you understand what I am saying? A person who is incapable of loving another cannot properly love himself.
Listen carefully to the rustle of your heart. There are tiny gusts of wind that swish your ventricles into a heavy chime, and those who love you are called to your side from its silent whistle. You are an absolutely gorgeous reprint of a Frida Kahlo painting. You are the bruise above your kneecap that reminds you of a night spent under the stars. You are the delicious smell of firewood when autumn rests its head on you. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.