Finally.

Its nice
To be reminded of the depths your heart can go
And how, when its allowed to act freely,
no concept nor time can impede it

Finally, at 28, I can honestly admit I've loved.

No.

I love. Still.

And the situation doesn't fit neatly in a box.
It never will.

But
I love, still.

Its uplifting
And sad.

But its human.
Its hopeful.

To love, without expectation.
To love, not so smoothly.
To love, not accordingly.

But to just love.
Simply.

With all the pain, wonder, and confusion.