Photograph

When I’m away, I will remember how you kissed me under the lamppost back on Sixth street. Hearing you whisper through the phone, ”Wait for me to come home.”

Love who you love while you have them. That’s all you can do. Let them go when you must. If you know how to love, you’ll never run out.

Ann Brashares, My Name is Memory (via purplebuddhaproject)