Wines & Prologues

To look for the hidden beauty in people—the things they refuse to see out of doubt, out of fear, out of uncertainties, out of the thought that where they stand now is simply where they will stand for all eternity; to listen to the little kid inside them, hold and squeeze their hands and tell them, “You’re okay… It’s okay… This is okay…”.

To give them the reassurance they need to take that step, no matter how small, no matter how slow; to watch their backs and give them a little push when they need it; to tell them “I got you. I’m here.”

To push people to their potential.
To see what they can’t—or refuse—to see.
To tell them: This is the power that you hold, the power brooding inside you, the light trying to come out of the cracks of yourself—demanding to be seen, to reach places, to touch people.

Maybe this is the role the universe bestowed upon me:

To love people, in hopes that they love themselves too.

To care for people in a way they should’ve been cared for—but never received, or never dared to ask for.

To hug people that their broken pieces are forced to fuse back together.

Maybe I was given this much—this much love, this much light, this much breath, this much…

Because this much is what most people need.

Because this is the role the universe bestowed me with.