And so she felt as if she belonged everywhere and nowhere, all at once. So she felt like her heart existed broken so that it may leave pieces of itself in all the places she had loved so dearly. In a piazza in Bologna next to an obscene fountain, on a strait next to a bridge in Istanbul, on a beach in sunny San Diego, there were jet-lagged jagged-edged parts of her heart hidden in the crevices, waiting in the cracks to be picked up again. She learned then that hearts don’t just break for love lost; a heart will break just as harshly, if not more so, for love gained.
Sorry I haven't been blogging. It's been a hectic month of moving and enjoying life and now I lack internet. Will update you all soon.