Sally Thorne

If you knew the kind of little miracles happening every moment you breathe in, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. A valve could close and not open; an artery could split, you could die. At any moment. It’s nothing but miracles inside your tiny city.”

I have a theory. Hating someone feels disturbingly similar to being in love with them.

When Josh smiles, he is blinding.

That his loss was the world’s gain.

I’m still holding on to him like he’s the only thing stopping me from falling off the planet.

When I open my eyes again I have a new perspective. It’s Saturday evening and the sunset is making the wall at the foot of my bed a glorious honey-peach candle-glow.

His smile is worth a thousand of anyone else’s.

The impact of his beauty is almost frightening up this close, with those eyes flashing bright.

The art of holding hands is underrated and it’s embarrassing how much this simple act has me nearly breathless.

I am getting dangerously high off his smiles. This is my third one now? I’m stuffing them in my pockets.