"Hello Jin," I whispered into my folded arms, my hands clutching around my sides, feeling my quivering ribs beneath my desperate fingers. "It's OK Jin," I hold myself and try not to cry, try to just breathe into the moment, to tap into the infinite joy that exists, always, in the stillness of the present. "I love you, Jin," the tears well up regardless, my words come out choked and broken, and they sound completely foreign to my ears. Had I ever said them before..? Had I truly almost-reached 30 and never once told myself how much I mean to me? How beautiful I am? How strong and proud and determined and wonderfully, shatteringly human I am? I've shouted it from digital rooftops, I've screamed it in laughing faces and graffitied it on walls under cover of night.. but have I ever said any of it to Myself??
"I love you, Jin."
February is the month of love. Or, at the very least, everything even remotely considered romantic has it's prices jacked the fuck up for the whole month. Candles, roses, hotel rooms, anything soft, cute and fuzzy: all of them get a nice price boost for all the poor fellas out there who are obligated (I mean it, just bite the bullet and do it) to come home with a box of chocolate and a terrible, terrible teddy bear.
Nobody deserves it more.
All images are ©Gail Kilker Photography 2016
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Jin N Tonic here..
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