he said, “tolerant understanding will help all of us reach our full potential.” and it stuck with me all day.
i am not tolerant and not understanding. it’s so true. but i have to be and want to be when i look at these people. they are the sweetest parents and the sweetest couple and the sweetest people. and they have a beautiful daughter, like an angel. i love this family.
they are the first couple that makes me believe that love can last a life time. it’s when two people are good to themselves, continually seeking the truth, and never forgetting the other in this big mess. they still ask each other what the other one thinks when they pick out clothes and they still want to look beautiful and they want pictures with each other and call the other “their love”. he still makes coffee for her. and she still recognizes it and does something to give it back to him. they say thank you to each other and they listen to the other and to me even if i am much younger. they are so gentle and also solid. they are independent of each other and good with the other.
i have never seen this…i guess love doesn’t work if you aren’t an exceptionally good person on your own two feet.
if love is heaven i am having that feeling like i can’t make it to heaven.
i met someone and thought, “they are so nice, i’d probably just pollute them.” i use to think this way with regards to old people and my parents and still do actually with most people most days. i think i should let them stay innocent. i feel as if i have to protect them. i don’t think that this is entirely reasonable but still when i see a nice guy like on Saturday who dropped me off at the party, talked with me all night, gave me his phone and left with his beautiful smile… i thought about inviting him out next time as i promised but then…i just thought to myself….he’s innocent and nice, i think i shouldn’t even think about it.
if love is heaven, i don’t think i can clean myself enough to enter those doors. i am a sinner. i am a question mark. i can’t tell the difference between an addiction and love. and i can’t seem to pick out an angel from a sea of braggarts.
…this is a beat-myself-up moment based on a passing moment.