Conversations with a Human Heart.

Tag: tiny moments

billie & me.

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billie understands the way you should organize a bookshelf when the sun’s left his post. the way crickets should punctuate the crackle of vinyl. the way humidity should resurface the skin—a mustache of moist, a free feeling of funk. the way a stemless glass should rock—so sweetly in the palm, so gently near the tongue. the way darkness should saturate the windows, the way tomorrow should be made to wait.

because tonight is for me. and it’s for billie.

it’s about the sway of two strangers who’ve quite forgotten which decades they’re supposed to call home.

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remember to find me.


when this lifetime is over and we prepare for our next, remember to find me.

remember how to hug me.

and how little things are always big things

—a proper kiss, a genuine laugh, honest conversation and a perfect press.

the wedding guests.

wedding shenanigans

They loved weddings.

They loved being gussied, remembering what their bodies felt like under fancy fabrics, with new silhouettes to admire. She loved the challenge of a heel and he loved a well-tailored suit.

They loved being placed at the ‘other’ table, relishing in the freedom to stretch out their brains and hearts in the company of strangers; the way their little island became a five-hour home, a meeting place of sudden friends. She loved being pulled by the tide of his conversation and he loved having her there to smile and laugh and chime in at unexpected moments.

At weddings it was easy to remember why they loved each other so—the tiny adventures, the conversations, the laughter. They loved moving to the dance floor for the slow ones—her right foot between his; they weren’t sure why, it just always feels better that way, how her hip meets his middle, how her hand claims his thumb, how easy it is to relax into his lead.

They drew energy from the palpable love—the overwhelming happiness that is so rare to observe. They loved watching, with permanent smiles, the recent Mr. & Mrs.—dancing between obligatory hellos and sought-after private moments.

They loved collecting together, it’s what made them light up—ideas and thoughts and insight on just about everything. They collected opinions, like souvenirs, of wedding perfection. They talked about dinners and locations and laughed at the hypothetical failures. They surprised themselves with freshly-minted preferences.

They loved exploring; they snuck away for walks and sips of whiskey in not-for-wedding-guest territories and felt revived for more celebration upon their return.

They photo-boothed in black & white and planned their future in color.

And when the moment came, they hugged the newlyweds; they whispered words of congratulations and showered them with blessings. They told them how very happy they were for them and they meant it.

And on the car ride home, without fail, they felt closer to each other than ever—an overlapping of energetic selves, a sharing of rhythms and breath.

This is happiness, she thinks. This is undeniable love.


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slow down, little babes.

papa bear and his cubs

Please slow down, Little Babes.

It wasn’t so long ago that we pushed you through these crowds in strollers or carried you in slings. we walked at our own pace. We made moves and decisions on your behalf, for your little voices had no words yet to call their own. We carried you close—your tiny heartbeats pressed flush against ours—and sometimes we let you dream while life swirled up and on and all about you. But you didn’t know about the life that danced so dramatically because our arms were your universe, and your comfort knew no limits when they were wrapped so lovingly around.

But now… now you have opinions forming at every moment of every day. You have quickly moving feet and eager eyes, you spend each waking moment devouring the activity sprawled out before you.

You’re asking questions. So many questions.

You want to go and see and laugh and do and spin and talk and discover. you want to experience this place and change this place. And you’re changing us, Little Boys. You’re offering tiny insights that make us pause where we stand to reconsider the world we once thought so familiar.

We’re slowing down.

We’re taking time; we’re demanding it.

We’re releasing tiny, sour bits of things—things beyond our control and things that don’t matter so much—to make space for the delicious chunks of life that you so readily give.

Slow down, Our Little Loves. We’re not ready to say goodbye to this.


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