compatibility vs. chemistry

The building blocks of a relationship rest on two simple words: compatibility and chemistry. Webster’s dictionary defines these words for grammatical understanding. However, the deeper meaning behind them is only found through life experiences and contexts.

Compatible: Adjective. Able to exist or occur together without conflict.

Chemistry: Noun. The complex emotional or psychological interaction between two people.

There are many shapes and sizes to relationships. No matter the flavor, every relationship either has chemistry, compatibility, or a sprinkle of both. The recipe differs case to case and everyone has different pallets, different preferences. But at the end of the day, relationships are woven together with compatibility and chemistry.

Compatibility takes many forms in a relationship. It can be seen and felt in all moments of everyday life. The mornings spent with a cup of coffee and the 9 a.m. news. The silence that exists on rainy car rides together. The postcoital moments of conversation and giggling. The flashes of memories from dinner dates, holidays, vacations, birthdays, and other instances stuck in time. The deep conversations about fears, goals, dreams, and ideas. The hours spent listening, advising, and comforting. Two people can fit like a glove both conversationally and psychologically. For some, that connection and the ability to talk for hours is enough. Enough to be happy. Enough to thrive.

For others, including myself, we need more. We need more than colloquy. We yearn for more than companionship. Cachinnation isn’t enough to keep our spirits satisfied. We need someone that will provide more for us than conversation and camaraderie. We need to feel something. We need chemistry. Chemistry is like rhythm, you either have it or you don’t. It is the difference between a natural born dancer and someone with two left feet. There usually are not too many grey lines. You cannot force, find, or create chemistry between two people. Similar to the fact you can’t take a pencil and a spoon and will them to be magnetic. It exists solely as an invisible force that is either present or nonexistent.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am a realist. I do not necessarily believe in love at first sight. If butterflies were really in your stomach you would have some serious health problems. But I wholeheartedly believe in chemistry between people. It is science! Pheromones are the bodies natural way of saying, “I’m really into you.” They legitimately are chemical substances released by animals to trigger a social response. Pheromones are like really good pick up lines. And personally, I need that chemical pick up line. In my most recent relationships, I found the kindest, most compassionate human being. He embodied most every quality women look for in a partner. We were SO compatible. However, after four months of laughter and conversation, I couldn’t make it work. The air between us was lackluster, at least for me. I tried so hard to get past it, to avoid it, to force it, but always to no avail. It became more difficult to lie to myself and lie to him. It became unfair.

As mentioned before, however, everyone is unique in the fact they require different things from a relationship. The key is to figure out what they are. Use your heart for this one, not your head. Determine what feels right and strive for that. It may be solely someone you are compatible with. Or maybe someone you can’t take your hands off. Maybe both. Whatever it is that makes you happy, find it, and never let it go.

three reasons one-night-stands are actually f*ing awesome

For starters, I hate that term, “one-night-stand”. Not only is there rarely ever standing involved (if you know what I mean), but also these moments in our lives aren’t just one night. They’re learning experiences that stick with us for months, even years, to come. They are small, yet significant, flashes in time that help us grow and learn through this really tough world. They also can be hella fun.

Side note: Number one really should be “because we can do whatever the f we want. slay. period. But I digress.

1. Natural Antidepressants

An evening with someone you have great chemistry with is empowering. It can be exactly the thing to help lift someone out of a period of sadness or a heavy situation. The act of flirting with anyone is a natural aphrodisiac. It shows confidence and self-esteem, while also being a beautiful opportunity to meet someone or learn something new. Getting over a break-up? Is your heart hurting, and you’re feeling alone? Buy a new dress and go talk to someone cute. Having someone stare at you with raw curiosity, intrigue, and infatuation is enough to pick up anyone’s spirits. If things go well and the stereotype is completed in the bedroom, then good for you, girl (or boy!). You were cherished, respected, and worshipped by another human being, and that—no matter the duration of time—is something magical. Let it fuel your soul and shine on.

2. Because We Fucking Can

Society is not your mother and cannot dictate when and whether or not you embrace your sexuality. Society is also not your best friend and unfortunately, won’t Facetime you while you are in the hotel bed Sunday morning. Society is too much of a prude to shout ‘Yassss girl, get it’ out a car window during your long parade home (walk of pride, not shame, by the way). As long as you’re smart, respectful, and safe, then there is not a single reason you should not say yes to that beautiful stranger. There will always be people who do not agree with your choices in life. Don’t let that stop you. Most of the time, they are just envious of your free-spirited, zero-fucks attitude. Get swept away and lose yourself in a single moment. Do whatever makes your heart sing and ride out that song however long you damn-well please. You strut your beautiful self any place you want, at any time, and do what YOU want. I support you.

Feel free to be free. Without judgment.

3. True Human Connection

Something beautiful happens when two human beings connect in any way: spiritual, emotional, physical, etc. We were put on this Earth in the plural form for a reason. We need a real connection to survive. Now, I don’t mean “we’re all in this together” preach-talk about the collective whole, but rather our internal need for connection. Intimate moments between living souls, whether physical or psychological, are a fundamental part of being human. Why shouldn’t we seek these experiences out at any point possible? If you feel any sort of connection with someone, it is your right to pursue that feeling and hold onto it for as long as you care to. One night or 50 years, it doesn’t matter how long. Hold on to that feeling of closeness for an hour or a lifetime, but never hesitate to feel it. Take in all the moments, anytime you can.

anxiety isn’t a personality trait

A few months ago, I was talking to this guy. A typical guy’s guy who watches football to compensate for his metrosexuality. I drove 2 hours north for a weekend visit and tried my damnedest not to have expectations. He’s not great at communicating, and I have a fear of confrontation, hence why we never discussed our intentions. I just tried to play it casually. I desperately wanted to be one of those cool girls who don’t overthink everything. But let’s face it, I’m not.

That evening, he dragged me out to a bar with all his guy friends. These were people I hadn’t seen since high school, five years ago. These were people I had zero interest in befriending. I played nice for a little while, but eventually I got bored of the superficiality and started thinking too much. Result: uncontrollable sobbing in the bathroom of an Irish pub. I didn’t know exactly why I was crying. At the time, all I knew was that I missed my cat and I was feeling confused. I was uncomfortable and lonely. After a while, I didn’t know if my tears were a result of my circumstantial misery or that I was now feeling bad about feeling bad. I was stuck in a vicious cycle that I didn’t know how to get out of.

It wasn’t until I called my mother the next day that I realized exactly what I had experienced: an anxiety attack. Cue more tears.

I never thought I would be the girl with anxiety. Maybe it’s an ego thing. Maybe it’s the stigma that sometimes comes with mental illness. Either way, it took that night at the bar, a raw moment of hopelessness and vulnerability, for me to finally understand. I have anxiety, but my anxiety doesn’t define me.

Having a name for how I feel has helped me recognize that a lot of my words and actions are influenced by what is simply a chemical imbalance. My body craves serotonin, and I have worn this deficiency like a heavy cloak, letting it weigh me down. Men I’ve dated have judged me for crying or yelling. They have belittled my feelings instead of validating them. I always thought I was crazy–that there was something wrong with me. But my recent insights have led me to understand that my anxiety isn’t a flaw. My anxiety is also not part of my identity. All my tears, frustration, confusion, and over-analyzing are misunderstood, yet normal.

I am normal. 

daughters, remember to thank your mother this weekend

In the course of an early adulthood life, we go through this strange rollercoaster relationship with our mother. As babies, we rely on her for safety, nourishment, and survival. As toddlers, we fight back as often as possible to learn the dos and don’ts of life. As preteens, we pull in closer to get through the tricky stage of puberty and our socio-emotional development. As teenagers, again, we rebel to test the waters of independence. But even after so much time pushing away and pulling back, we inevitably reel in closer than ever.

Unfortunately, before we can have a Rory and Lorelai Gilmore relationship with our mother, we have to go through the rough patches. In adolescence, we resent, ignore, defy, and do everything we can to prove we don’t need her. Meanwhile, she tries to be the best possible parent to someone that thinks she is the worst possible parent. A near hopeless task and yet she tries anyway. She fights through all the tears, deceit, and lies. She is the epitome of unconditional love. And yet, as angsty teenagers, we exist solely in our own realm. Never stopping to look at the big picture and realize just how remarkable our mother is.

That is until we hit our 20s. College throws us into this boiling pot of responsibilities, anxiety, and freedom. Even after years of fighting for it, ironically, freedom has never been so terrifying. This is the time in our lives when we learn how long we can tread water for without totally drowning. Strangely enough, after two decades of maturation, we are suddenly back to being infants. Lost, confused, ignorant, and needy. Our mother always knows how to save the day. The distance from home is what led us to finally recognize just how incredible mom really is and also that we can’t do this all alone. Thankfully, our mother was able to overcome past wounds and is waiting, ready and eager to help.

“What is a FAFSA?”

“How do I use fabric softener?”

“How long can asparagus stay in the fridge until I die from eating it?”

“What is Acetaminophen?”

“What’s my social security number?”

“Can’t you just call and pretend to be me? Please?”

That cliche saying about seeing light through the darkness is true. We start to look back at everything our mother has done for us and begin to feel a sense of utter appreciation and guilt. How she dealt with our hormones and irrationality for so long is a true mystery of life. Maybe it was the months of therapy or her own empathy as a female, but either way, the woman is a saint. John Mayer wrote the following: “Girls become lovers who turn into mothers; So mothers be good to your daughters too.” And honestly, I think he should have been singing daughters be good to your mothers because she will save your ass one day.

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trauma’s a bitch

It’s hard to imagine that there might be other people who have endured trauma and might be experiencing similar roadblocks as mine. It’s a harsh reality, albeit comforting to know I may not be alone, to think someone else might have to feel these gut-wrenching emotions and battles.

Now over half a decade ago, I was in an emotionally, physically, and psychologically abusive relationship. Through my naivety, I had no idea I was dating a true sociopath for much of my young adult life. I’ve written page after page about these experiences. I have talked hour after hour in therapy about these traumas. I have worked long and hard to heal these scars and rebuild my own identity. I have come to terms with the horrible things that happened to my mind, body, and spirit over those five years. I gained strength, courage, and advocacy for my own self-worth. It took a long time, but I found peace. I found myself again.

I always knew my trauma was an old friend who would sit in the corner, never fully leaving the party. However, I learned how to protect myself from his harsh glares and biting words. I knew I could live with these memories and continue to learn from them. My internal battles were mainly fought and won. But now I’m realizing, all these years later, another war was waiting over the horizon. I had no idea how much more work I had to do until I started to love again.

Granted, my trauma has haunted many relationships since. It finds the smallest cracks to seep into and rips apart any chance at a connection. I have consistently had trust issues. I have sabotaged relationships with good, kind men for no reason other than it didn’t feel right. These were all minor battles, foreshadowing of the war to come. These minor characters in my life were never the ones I loved deep enough for the gates to open. So, they came and went in my life, never causing much of a commotion.

Things started to change when the real, “sometimes you just know” kind of love came to me. The effortless kind that seems to make you levitate. I found someone who reminded me I have a soul to give again; it was so easy to give. My old friend didn’t start to rock the boat until I was fully invested and fully absorbed in this love. And then, after a few months of bliss, he started to show his hand. My anxiety started to rise. Small things were becoming red flags. Trivial issues started to look like foundational problems. My reality started to warp and I questioned every single one of my instincts. Am I overreacting to this? Am I being gaslit again, or did I cause this? Have I been the problem all along? At the peak of this emotional response, that debilitating feeling of anxiety that seems to consume my whole being, I find myself thinking, I wouldn’t wish this on my greatest enemy.

I drown in these thoughts, these inconsistencies, these anxieties. How do I recognize if I’m being abused again when I can’t trust my brain? Is he yelling because I yelled first, or is it because he has anger issues? Is his apathy because I cry so much or because he completely lacks empathy? My impulse to protect myself kicks in during an argument and my voice needs to scream louder and firmer to make sure it’s heard. It remembers what it feels like to be small and suppressed. My body needs to be bigger and stronger because it remembers what it feels like to be taken advantage of. My heart fights to be nourished and cared for because it remembers what it feels like to be broken.

Then begins the endless cycle of self-loathing and regret. Those actions and words were not the real me. I worked so hard to rebuild and process this trauma, it is not possible I’m still damaged. All of those walls I had built to keep predators out were knocked down when I started to trust again. Now I second-guess everything out of fear. My logic says that everyone is an enemy, but my heart sees the kindness in their souls. Where does the truth lie?

I wish I had a cathartic ending to this war, something to write in the history books. But I am learning. We all are learning. I hold out hope that one day a balance will start to form and I will be able to trust fully while not losing all of my strength. My internal conflict of overthinking will subside and the truth will become clearer. Until then, I will have patience with myself because even making it this far is a cause for joy and waving banners. I will find strength in the idea that maybe, possibly, I am not alone.

make something of this time

Today I smelled a magnolia flower for the first time. I didn’t count my calories on my walk and I didn’t check the time. I stood in front of this marvelous living pillar and felt grateful the flowers bloomed for me.

Yesterday, I researched the anatomy of a marsupial.

Tomorrow I may lie in bed all morning and take my time getting work done. But tomorrow I will breathe and I will feel and I will think.

When was the last time you looked up at the sun and felt gratitude?

When was the last time you were able to say to yourself “What do I enjoy doing most”?

When was the last time you considered what the word essential means?

The essentials are health, sustenance, shelter, and safety.

Nowhere in that list does it read wealth. Nowhere does it read industry or power.

These things are privileges many of us have never known to be without. We have been able to order a pizza when we crave it, without stopping to consider what it takes to bake a perfect crust. We have gone to our jobs every day without fail, like hamsters on a wheel. Even if our labors are our passions, we rarely stop. We push forward, even when every inch takes small pieces of our soul.

It is now we are faced with what is being dubbed an obstacle. This chapter in history, albeit devastating, frightening, and severe, is providing us an opportunity to stop.

To breathe.

To exist within ourselves and among our families.

To listen to the birds chatter.

To stay up late reading a book.

To be creative.

To make memories.

To dance and smile and share stories.

This event has given us the chance to do all of this and more . . . without feeling guilt for not being productive. We have been so naïve to think that the only way to prove productivity is to work, to make, to perform, to toil. What do we have to show for all of that productivity now that the wheels have stopped turning?

Make something of this time. Even if it means just allowing yourself a minute to breathe.

You don’t need to become a marathon runner, or a 5-star chef, or even a perfect parent. You should simply enjoy the stillness that the world lives in now. It is rare, it is beautiful, and it is yours.

a love metaphor

A love metaphor: Always ask how deep the water is before jumping in

There’s nothing more beautiful than a budding romance. It is fresh, exciting, and usually filled with raw, heightened passion. Every second spent with one another is a moment of learning and growing. These initial moments are carefree and magical--especially if it is a summer romance. Days spent toasting under the sun and nights filled with hazy memories and sweet kisses. Emotions are strong and the drinks are often stronger. Nevertheless, with all the highs that come with a new relationship, anxieties and fears often travel alongside. Personally, I know I have a time limit to this free and easy living that comes with any new love interest. There eventually will come a time when I cannot hide my restlessness. A confrontation must occur or I will legitimately combust. I have many unanswered questions that need to be addressed. 

Old Dominion read our troubled minds with their song “Written in the Sand”:

Are we just a backseat, tryna get it while we can? 

Are we names in a tattoo, or just a number on a hand? 

Are we last-call kissing or will we be reminiscing with each other for the next forty years? 

Are we written in the stars, baby, or are we written in the sand?

It is common to ask such questions during the early stages of a romance. Especially if it has been so overwhelmingly lighthearted--there is rarely a time that seems appropriate to have “the talk”. The “Where is this going?” talk. From my experience, most people are never apt to initiate such a conversation and seldom respond well to it. They like to live in this fairytale world as long as possible; meanwhile, our anxiety spikes with every passing minute. It is important, for the sake of our sanity, to force the conversation. To ask the awkward questions. To lay everything on the table. Trust me, I know it’s difficult. I know it takes a certain level of vulnerability that many peopleare not open to. But it is better to nip this in the bud sooner than later. You can make it brief, but make sure all expectations and intentions are put out on the table. 

I’ve had this discourse end beautifully, in which we are both on the same page and a loose framework is laid for our future. Unfortunately, sometimes this exchange unsettles the dust and causes conflict. Acknowledging any strong emotions or the need for a tactical plan of the heart is unnerving for many people. Many people will become defensive or avoid it altogether.

However, now and then you’ll get a beautiful soul that listens, responds, and works with you, not against you. 

At the end of the day, have the hard conversations, even if they’re hard. Ask the questions your heart needs answers to. 

The future can be scary. Edit: The future is scary. 

But it doesn't always have to be. Allow yourself to gently and openly, fall in love every single day. Wake up in the morning, and make it your mantra to fall in love. With a man, woman, yourself, a puppy. Doesn’t matter. But don’t let fear or anxiety stop you from loving. Trust your instincts and talk through your anxiety. If the puppy doesn’t listen, then okay, it’s a puppy. But if the man doesn’t listen, move on. Fall in love again the next day, with an iced coffee and another boy. But always communicate and never be afraid of that conversation or to fall in love. 

Leaping may result in a faceplate every now and then, but if you had a choice of the shallow end or a well-researched cliff…I say leap.

wear your scars proudly

Each moment in our lives creates a timeline of the many ups, and downs, ugly cries, deep belly laughs, and scars in our lives. In relationships especially, the lows are the ones that tend to haunt us. But these lessons are also the ones that will guide us.

Remember the good, but don’t suppress the bad or the ugly.

Brushing off the bad memories will only create an empty void. I have to remember the many nights watching raindrops fall down the passenger window and crying out of fear. I cannot forget the hollowness that exists after years of emotional control and manipulation. The tragic moments that live deep in the shadows of my soul are important. They are lessons, not mistakes. They once burned holes in my heart, but the wounds are now scars. Scars that I can’t hide. Scars that I must remember. Scars that remind me to never lose my sense of self-worth. These disturbances are the base of my emotional armor. They are the power behind my words and confidence. They allow me to say no, to say I deserve better, to say never again.

All the events in my life have shaped me and will also shape my future.

I am no stranger to emotional trauma and abusive relationships. I have worked on recognizing my triggers, being patient with myself, and being honest with those I share my life with now. But with every mountain I climb on the path to healing, I have realized I will never walk a perfect trail. At peak times, the road will become clearer and the rattlesnakes will back off, but new and old obstacles will always exist. It is important to understand that my emotional demons have shaped my path. My many ghosts have helped carve a tunnel through the mountains. These negative memories and experiences aren’t dead weight—instead, they work together with the light that shines down. Everything that has happened to me, over two and half decades, make up my entire existence.

Find a balance between hope and defense.

For years I lived in a fortress. I stopped believing in love and happy endings. I created walls so thick I couldn’t see out and no one could see in. From that, my relationships suffered. I was only half a person. I had spent so many years in therapy working through my trauma that I found myself wearing it like a lead jacket. I built impenetrable walls with no doors in or out. I remembered my learned lessons, but I was fearful to try again. This is a lonely path.

However, upon entering my most recent relationship, I tried desperately to start anew. What I failed to realize is that new relationships cannot be brand-new novels; instead, they’re fresh chapters in an existing book. In many ways, wanting a fresh start gave me a sense of optimism and hope I hadn’t seen in myself for quite some time. I whittled away a safe passage through the defensive barriers. I shed myself from the weight of all I had overcome. I felt free from fear, distrust, and baggage. Maybe I was blind and slightly naïve, but it allowed me to nurture a budding romance, free from preconceived notions. I gave myself permission to trust again.

This approach only started to backfire when my feelings for this new love interest became stronger. I came to the realization that this “fresh start” was also a wall I put up. It was Sephora’s best concealer over old scars. I looked happy and that emotion shined from within, but I was ignoring all the lessons I learned. Of course, it did not occur to me that I was disregarding my past, due to all the time spent therapeutically reflecting on it. But I was missing a piece of my true self. How could I ever fully commit to a new relationship without each and every special fragment of myself? My partner deserved the truth; so did I.

I wrote my fears, my anxieties, and my suffering back into my timeline. Until time travel is an option, my past will always live behind me. In it, I have learned what I need, what I have to offer, what I deserve, what I can work on, and what I refuse to accept. These hardships do not need to impede my future journey, but I also cannot ignore them. Shadows may linger closer on more treacherous days, but I know how to work through them. I have faced them before and will face them again. Those ghosts can be friends if I choose what to take from them. My instincts are driven by this deep history. I have everything I need to start a new chapter. My heart will let love in, my head will keep me logical, and my intuition will steer me through the moments of unease.

Scars are not blemishes. They are proof that you are strong. They are proof that you have the capacity to love. They are proof you are alive and will always persevere. Wear them proudly.

rolling up the welcome mat

TikTok feeds are flooded with videos of women dancing on their kitchen counters, belting the songs of“Rolling up the Welcome Mat.” These are accompanied by captions of “POV: when you’re happily married but feeling the feels of a divorce.” 

Why is this beautiful EP resonating with all our hearts, despite our relationship status?

This album tells a story filled with anxiety, grief, sorrow, anger, resentment, acceptance, and every other emotion that splinters during hardship. Relationships cause a kaleidoscope of feelings, especially for empaths and feelers of all kinds. Instagram realities of perfect couples are propaganda. There are highs, and there are lows in every partnership. 

I think this is when it’s over for me

Anyone who has loved, and loved deeply, has felt anxiety around their SO. Doubt and loneliness are no strangers to many. That feeling of uncertainty is something that can fester in any heart. Whether you sense your partner drifting or there are signs that you’ve outgrown each other, this nervousness is common. Sometimes it even turns into playing make-believe. You’re playing the part and talking the talk, but realizing things are dissolving is a slow burn. 

This place is a limbo, where you must evaluate the situation and possibly make tough decisions. Is this worth pushing through, rekindling the flame? Or is it finally time to say the goodbyes? This can cause true loneliness because, really, the only one who can understand is the person you are farthest away from. 

It was love, then it was just married

I always hated the term ‘honeymoon phase’ because I wanted to believe that kind of love never dulled. That the infatuation and bliss were lifelong if you found the right partner. But, even those in the happiest of relationships have probably felt the heartache of a split or the sadness of drifting apart. Even just a few years can wear away at the strongest of foundations. It doesn’t take centuries to erode something originally built to last. As humans, we’re not made of that immortal cement that the Romans used. A few disagreements can turn into more extensive arguments. They snowball, one after another until someone builds resentment. It’s the saddest when you realize that some of these cracks are too big for repair. The film reel in your mind turns over the last chapter of your life, the smiles, and laughter. But your present has a rude awakening with reminders of what went wrong. The broken pieces are strewn out in front of you. This is the kind of grief no one ever warns you about. Losing what you knew, leaving what you once loved and cherished behind, and coping with that loss. 

I thought maybe that would make it all better

Any tension in a relationship can take a toll. We are trained to fight for those we love and that which is important to us. If any doubt sneaks in, an immediate response is to deny and push past it. Things will work themselves out, right? That is only sometimes the case, unfortunately. Sometimes, there are not enough self-help books on the shelves to fix something broken. 

Breakups are a shared trauma for most. One of the most complex parts is the shame, the feelings of failure. You gave it your all to try and find peace in your relationship. It’s normal to live in the realm of denial for some time before the bandaid is ripped off. You play house for a while to avoid the sting of what lingers. Dinner at 6, family outings, fake laughter, Post-It notes on the fridge, “Out with the girls. Be home late.” But that’s only one still frame of your life. The rest plays out in either passive-aggression, yelling, or, worse yet, silence. The pretending is the hardest part. Then when all is said and done, you barely recognize the two people left standing. 

There’s a thin line between love and hate

There is no single relationship where both parties have yet to see red. Tensions flare, patience levels plummet, and passionate words are thrown like darts. All of these feelings truly come in waves. After that first sting of loneliness hits, the anger starts to creep in. In any partnership where there is love, there is also fury. We are hardwired to protect ourselves and fend off danger. Sometimes this looks like the slamming of doors and or passive-aggressive stares. But no one is immune to a heated argument over both trivial and foundational reasons. 

Then, if needed, we make choices that are in our best interest, and that news is not always received well. People change in the face of adversity. We say things we don’t mean, as it is easy to let feelings take over. There are always two sides to every situation; perspective is hard to see when you are simply in survival mode. Communication skills are foreign, so we cling to hate and resentment. Even though these emotions are not always reflective of our “best selves,” they are valid and, in small doses, can be cathartic. This process is yours to live and experience in your own way. 

I hope I never leave me again 

It is a long, winding road, but somewhere along the way, there is a place of contentment. Whether that is after working hard to reignite the flame or finding peace after a messy ending, eventually, we see a route to healing. There is a lot of room for growth after any transformation. This journey involves self-discovery, reconciliation, and plans for a hopeful future. If we stay or move on, there are always opportunities to learn and grow. The anger will eventually fade, and retrospect can take over. Every mistake made, every tear shed into a glass of wine, and every argument had are lessons learned along the way. Holding hate in your heart will corrode all that is good within you. There are still many pieces left in your puzzle. Some bits you lost along the way, but others are parts you found hidden under the box. This is your time to start rebuilding, piece by piece, to create something even more beautiful than the cover. 

At the end of the day, it was comforting to know we had the opportunity to love and be loved.