The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.
Clive Staples Lewis | Till We Have Faces
Oh, where the wind starts to look like her hair; like clouds in her bright blue eyes. As the sea and the shore fall and rise; like her breast as she breathes by my side. The moon is her lips as the sun is headed on down to the sea; like her head as she lays down on me.
I don’t mind being a shoulder to cry on, I don’t mind on bit. If fact, I love being there for people.
But right now, I need someone to be there for me.
I keep telling myself ‘Everything will be okay.’ But I’m not okay. I’m not okay at all.