Picking blueberries

(a tribute to a wonderful pal <3)

Usually when Liv and I pick blueberries we eat more than we pay for.  We should truly feel bad for perhaps “ripping them off”, but our fingers are stained and we’re juicied and giggling, content and I don’t care.  I love the blueberry fields with my smiley pal.

I learned something about love in an airport, staring at a ceiling.  Love, in its purest sense. Love is sacrificial, and that, in its in only capacity, is deeply painful.  But it is easy. So easy to sacrifice when you love someone with all your heart. I’m laying in this cube in Jakarta that reminds me of the giant eggs in St. Petersburg that I was so obnoxious in, asking the waiter for more bread, more wine.  I’m listening to classical and smelling my potato feet. Rain is pouring on the glass roof.

I love you.  All of me loves you.  I would fly just to see you for a day, a single moment.  Memories from these days flash by like those old films, ya know? And I see and hear smiles and laughter constantly.  I see your eyes and they bring instant tears to mine. Chills course through me because gosh, I love you. Every part of you.  

My legs fucking hurt. I’m tired. Hot. Sweaty. Sad. I miss you.  But I’m so damn grateful for you. I would take all of that and so much more just to see you.  Because wow do I love being with you. It’s so easy. It is so easy.  And holy stars is that lovely.  

My sweet Jesus am I forever blessed to know this awful/amazing feeling of hugging you till next time.  Because of love. Loveliness.