It blows my mind that after all this time you’ve spent on earth, nobody ever bothered to tell you that your eyes aren’t brown.
They are copper against honey and sage and when they water they glow, two perfect orbs the same shade as nature after it rains.
You’re not as simple as they wanted you to be.
I want you to promise me something. If you love someone, you tell them. Even if you’re scared that it’s not the right thing. Even if you’re scared that it’ll cause problems. Even if you’re scared that it will burn your life to the ground. You say it, and you say it loud. And then you go from there.
So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.
Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in. And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay but by their decision to return.