Hope

   'One day you walk into a cafe and there he is. It's as simple as that. As spend your life, walking into cafes, hoping he'll magically appear. Like he did the first time. Or there would be someone else, just like him, sitting, hundred over a book. He would turn to look at you and it would all begin again.


When love finds you, it doesn't come with crashing waves or thunderbolts. It appears as a song on the radio or a particular blue in the sky. I downs on you slowly, like a warm winter sunrise- where the promise of summer shines out from within.

 We number our days and divided our seasons. We endlessly define what it is into summer and always has, long before that line was ever drawn. Your love from him is the same- it runs wild and free. Like the air around you, it stretches all across the world- it doees not leave a single thing untouched.
You carry that love with you, like a brigt and blazing beacon, a straight line from your heart to his. And it keeps alive that aching, throbbing hope, that somewhere in the world, there is a cafe and within those walls, he is there, hoping just as much as you.'

-L.L.