You Still Are

It’s been a while since I wrote like this on empty sheets and blank slates a stream of consciousness. One of the kindest writing styles—letting my soul get blanketed in the black and whites of the paper. You were sad and possibly nostalgic, yet I felt whole even in the emptiness and the dark of the night around us. Sometimes the balance of the light and the night seems offset, but at least you’re there in the morrow to see the sun rise.

I recall snowy nights and long and lonely walks full of joy and sadness in the glitter of the snow and the chill of the crisp air against my coat. Did you know that in the loneliness exists the bittersweet breath of life? You can only be lonely after experiencing the delight of another kindred soul making its way in the universe with you. Man… this universe is large, but somehow our world is the size of a corridor winding around itself. So many memories and so many thoughts that brought me back to life on this odd night. How is it that everything seems okay lately even when the world is tearing itself apart?

I saw your failing ventures and smiled—the thought of you leaping out of comfort and trying something new brought me joy. I saw success in the small moments where creativity blossomed like cherry red blossoms on the tree. Thank you, world, for bringing love after death and bringing life from the soil. Thank you for the tears that fall from my eyes in bittersweet emotion as my eyes stay hydrated. Thank you for the breath in a quiet room and the beats of music playing in my ears.

And if you’re sad, just know that you will still remain…loved…imprinted in the hearts of others. Hike your mountains and walk your winding roads. Make good and bad choices, but keep going. Whether or not I remain here today or tomorrow, my will will stay in the air as it fills your lungs. There are so many ways to love and I love so many times.

                                                                                    You are loved,

                                                                                    Hellen M. Barroso

SJT Love Letter 8/19/20 ; 6:00AM

With you, my creative soul has soared through skies of pigment and acoustic sound waves. You are my romance, my flamenco song.

Love, your darling Hellen

Love letters to the man that has given me his all.

Feel free to listen to this gem: Sale La Luna- Bulerías by Vicente Soto Sordera 💚

SJT

… And yet I love to hear you sing because when your voice rings through the air, your honest soul reverberates and the strength of your heart resonates and I can’t help but look into those green eyes and feel the clarity of a light beam through the foliage in a tropical rainforest.

Who Knew?

I have loved you without thought of what would come and where we would arrive after all of these years. I remember missing you when you were away and again when it was my turn to leave. I waited for you without knowing that one day you would return and we would seek one another out on the darkest of nights and the longest of days. Now we spend hours cuddled up on ruffled bedsheets and we spend moments on adventures ranging from breathing moments to capturing memories in pixels and thoughts. I am grateful to be able to hold you and to look at your light eyes scanning my soul. I have never wanted such strong hands running their fingers through my hair the way I crave yours. I will write you a thousand love letters with my intentions and you will take me in for who I am and I will lie next to you and thank the heavens for your company.

The Gardener

Growing a garden begins with an idea that motivates you to plant seeds of varieties that you believe you will love. Soon after you will measure the plots, determine the seed depth, placement relating to the sun, and the watering schedule. Eventually, the first shoots will sprout and something within your chest will also grow because you are now a creator whereas before you simply imagined. What happens next all depends on you. Will you begin to forget the strategies you used to cultivate your flowers, will you inadvertently introduce weeds or pests into your garden, will you become careless in your watering schedule? I hope that you will be the patient gardener that sings in your garden and pulls out weeds like doubts that choke your flowers. Just remember, that all roses come with thorns, yet none intends to prick, but rather only to appeal and grow—so if at some moment you catch yourself on a spike be compassionate enough to not uproot. When you stroll through a garden that you have cultivated with love, your soul will rejoice and all around you will be peace.

To Be Taught Hope

There were never doubts or darkness in those eyes, there was only excitement and expectation. You never settled for less than you deserve and you never gave less than you knew you could. It thrilled me, won me to you, gave me hope and dreams of life. Now I too expect, deserve, and give what I know I can. You have been sculpted by many artists some controversial, some absolutely lovely and you are the finished product of love and battles that I have never understood—it’s intriguing. My favorite moments are those where you linger on the features of my face and you know all that you want in that moment. I am full of calm, a peace that you gently placed in my life and I am grateful.

Stories About Love

Sometimes I’m tired of writing about the feeling of love, but then I remember lips on my forehead, your fingers through mine as we walk underneath the sunshine. I remember your eyes so light and uplifting gently gazing at me with adoration and I wonder if damn… might this ever be…

Then I hear your voice reminding me that I am special and it affirms what I already know of you, that I like you for more than who you are, but also for what you represent, what you stand for. I love that you are heavy with convictions, yet sometimes budge when I challenge you and it makes me smile to know that together there is never a boring moment. I could sit there with you with my head on your shoulder and my fingers running through your chest and arms as I listen to your soft voice in the night.

Here I thought that I was done writing stories about love.

Duality

Lately I have learned about the duality of life. I met this magnificent young woman today that was capable of so much, but the world around her did not understand her lived experience. I learned of the importance of being kind when people around you are not and it’s not necessarily because turning the other cheek is ethical, but rather because some people’s unkindness doesn’t quite stem from a place of hatred or prejudice and instead stems from personal insecurities. People have been teaching me that they are so much more than a vessel for the mind, they are a reflection of the world and I am learning to take them as they are even when sometimes it hurts. I have also learned about myself and my own patterns of behavior when dealing with sadness: I tend to overcompensate in the settings outside of where my sadness originated by overexerting myself and doing all that I can to be the embodiment of joy. I think it has to do with my own pain manifesting itself in an outlet that tries to push the pain out of others and bring forth a smile, a laugh, or some type of positive energy. This is when people believe I am the happiest, but in truth, it’s when I am at the lowest state because I will do anything that I can to get higher and so I seem relentless, perhaps even childlike in my passionate demeanor. So yes, lately I am learning about the duality of life and how the good comes with the bad so that when I am down, I can propel myself back upwards.

Necessity

She’s an angel for raising a beautiful soul such as yourself. The love she houses in her body for you radiates to those who bring you peace, joy, and love. The more that I learn the more that I love and I am so grateful that your kindness grows. In turn there is little else I desire and you spark a light within me as I fall deeper. You’re not a necessity, but damn does it feel good to know you’re there.