Heartblog: Tell Me About Every Person You Have Ever Loved.

A friend of mine sent me this amazing passage and I found it so inspiring. It’s weird isn’t it, how we never really know eachother. There are so many people that are close to us on a daily basis, but for me, the only person I really know is swoon. I can tell what his insides are thinking without him speaking, I can know if he is happy or sad just by the way he walks into a room, I know his soul. 

I wonder if we took the time to really know other people, if we would become this huge, beautiful  connected society that could tell if someone else needed something just by a glance. If we were all compassionate to that feeling, that we could know how to help and fix others before they even knew they needed fixing? I certianly think it would be lovely. 

Enjoy this passage, sorry I have been mia. working so much, never stopping. xx 

I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word “home” means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bed room when you were 8. See, I wanna know the first time you felt the weight of hate and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms? Or would you leave the snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad, even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name. And if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving. And if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes through other people’s wounds.

Andrea Gibson