It's scary to love big, but it's lonely to love small.
So I love big;
On the morning, when my alarm reminds me there is a world outside my dreams.
On the weather, when the heat turns shade and wind into relief,
or when the cold adds to the comfort of my hoodie.
I love big;
On every stranger I'll only ever make eye contact with, for their beauty that I see and feel,
but that they probably don't know or believe.
On conversations I hear in passing, and on conversations I begin in place;
over a watch,
a graphic tee,
I love big on
smells that add texture to a room,
music, and the way it doesn't create emotion -- only evokes it --
and timing; the way a second can change a day.
I love big on
progress, and the loss of it, since knowledge is gained regardless.
Days that can separate me from the night,
purpose in myself when I find it; inspiration in others when I can't.
Distractions, however temporary.
Smiles stirred by people's existences, and not by their agendas.
I love big on a past
that can make me angry, sad, regretful again when I think I've forgotten how to feel.
I love big on a present;
a chance to exist in one moment that has neither begun nor ended,
a magic to which we're each entitled to as it glides along, bearing us all upon it.
But most of all,
I love big on a future that will always be seven continents of "I haven't been there, or done that yet."