How many people know you? I mean really know you. Beyond your favorite color, favorite book, or favorite song. Who knows what lurks in the depths of your mind, what captivates your soul, and why? Who knows your passions? Your fears? Your desires? Who knows all these things about you and accepts you anyway?
“You miss her? Then book a ticket on the next flight get on a fucking plane and fly to her. Jump on a bus and ride five, six, eleven hours to see her beautiful face. Hitch hike from the other side of the country, in the rain, sunshine and the hail. Take your Mom’s car and drive for three hours and bang on her door, until she wakes up shitty but happy to see you. Sneak onto a train and journey for two hours. If you miss her as much as you say, then you will find a way to get to her. Even if that means you’re broke for two months, or tired for a week. If she matters as much as you say, you’ll find a way.”—Unknown (via flannel)