@theangelicamis: on the house hunt to the suburbs we go #wellness #nontoxic #healthylifestyle

lG: @theangelicamis
lG: @theangelicamis
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Thursday 27 August 2026 15:25:17 GMT
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There’s something so powerful in love…  It endures so many changes between two people. All of the growing, the hurt, the tumbling, the rock-on-rock that creates the dull glow of a polished something… and how many times has it happened before? How many times have people loved one another only to die in passing, to fall into the obscurity of a life-well-lived. There are so many plethoras, these vast arrays of collections of the smallers… grass in a field, trees in a wood, bees in a hive, grains in the sand, droplets in the ocean. And all of these, all of this, mass, somehow comes down to two people who love each other through so much trial, tragedy, triumph. And someone always leaves first, someone always goes through to the other side.  I have lived so longingly for love, that I forgot myself in the process, and became an idea of what I hoped love should look like. But that’s not life. You grow and you see who you are, and one day you realise you’re an entirely person to all the insecurities you thought were you. And there’s something so humbling in how small you can feel when you’re really you. That vulnerability is offered to someone else who, for no known reason, takes it. Love is a precious, sweet thing. It blooms and in some seasons bears such fruit, and in others while it’s quiet, you tend. You till the land, you prune, you graft, you change and you grow. And by the time this life is done, you have been a million people, had a million thoughts, and lived a million lives.  Love brings this out of all of us.  I don’t know, there’s so much I don’t know.  #mrskelly #life #art #writing #Love
There’s something so powerful in love… It endures so many changes between two people. All of the growing, the hurt, the tumbling, the rock-on-rock that creates the dull glow of a polished something… and how many times has it happened before? How many times have people loved one another only to die in passing, to fall into the obscurity of a life-well-lived. There are so many plethoras, these vast arrays of collections of the smallers… grass in a field, trees in a wood, bees in a hive, grains in the sand, droplets in the ocean. And all of these, all of this, mass, somehow comes down to two people who love each other through so much trial, tragedy, triumph. And someone always leaves first, someone always goes through to the other side. I have lived so longingly for love, that I forgot myself in the process, and became an idea of what I hoped love should look like. But that’s not life. You grow and you see who you are, and one day you realise you’re an entirely person to all the insecurities you thought were you. And there’s something so humbling in how small you can feel when you’re really you. That vulnerability is offered to someone else who, for no known reason, takes it. Love is a precious, sweet thing. It blooms and in some seasons bears such fruit, and in others while it’s quiet, you tend. You till the land, you prune, you graft, you change and you grow. And by the time this life is done, you have been a million people, had a million thoughts, and lived a million lives. Love brings this out of all of us. I don’t know, there’s so much I don’t know. #mrskelly #life #art #writing #Love

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