It hurts to care. Sometimes I feel the blood rush behind my eyes as tears swell to the center. What a gift it is to have such a heartfelt reaction to something so sacred. I remember what peace once felt like, you know. Bending limbs. Bare feet on concrete. Kissing the sun back. Scraped elbows that stung, but the feeling let me know I was still very- much alive. Lying in the rain and daring it to drown me, but trusting that it never would. If I could hold my 17 year old self- I’d kiss her freckles and beg her to keep a piece of this freedom tucked away in her bones. Remind her that the world is semi permanent and if you have to swing back at it, swing really fucking hard. I’d tell her that she’ll care too much and too often- and that’s not always a bad thing, but please leave room for the bloom. Don’t oversaturate your garden by watering everyone else’s flowers. Please learn when to stop giving, because it hurts to care. -AMT ©️