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To the messes — because life’s too short to always be put together, anyway.
That’s the thing about losing a loved one. In one way or another, they stay with us forever. They’re never truly lost, never truly gone — as long as we choose to keep them alive in our hearts.
There are no secrets to success. It is the result of preparation, hard work, and learning from failure.
I knew it when she took me in completely, when she paused there with me inside her, our eyes locked, her lips parted and my bleeding heart in her fucking hands. She’d taken a part of me, and given me a part of her, and now — without the other — neither of us would be the same again.
“I see the first woman to steal my heart, and the only woman I ever want to keep it.”
She was the spontaneous to my well planned, the art to my logic, the unexpected welcome to my day-to-day routine I didn’t even realize was suffocating me.
“Do you think there’s a universe that exists where you could be mine?” Her eyelids fluttered open, and she turned in my arms. Even in the dark, those blue eyes of hers shone, and she locked them on mine, one hand crawling up to frame my face, sliding back into my hair, pulling me closer, her lips brushing mine when she gave her answer. “Let’s make one.”
When we fell, we fell hard. When we loved, we loved with all we had. When we fought, we fought until we dropped. And when one of us was knocked down, the whole team stopped everything to get them back on their feet. That was the Becker way.
Fight for what’s right, stand up for those who can’t stand for themselves, give yourself permission to love and to lose and to be loved and lost in return, and above all else, family first — always.
like the lotus flower born from the mud, we must embrace the darkest parts of ourselves to become our most beautiful selves.
