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for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped in the flags! In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day—I am surrounded with her image! The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her! 

Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë ♡

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  ― Billy-Ray Belcourt, A History of My Brief Body

[text ID: To love someone is firstly to confess: I'm prepared to be devastated by you.]

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First Light

Last Light

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Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "West Wind," featured in Devotions: Selected Poems

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Anne Sexton, from a letter featured in Anne Sexton; A Self-Portrait In Letters

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praying for my future husband every night, so that when we meet, i can say *you spent your entire life under my prayers* ♡

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I look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the age to come.

The Nicene Creed

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You have loved me, before the foundation of the world

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Antonio Canova (Italian, 1757-1822) The Three Graces, c.1814-17

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