Bridgette Hayles.

20years old and young in heart. Learning to become the woman God intends me to be. Walking in the grace of Him daily. "I must decrease, so that He may increase" John 3:30.

it will not be at 3 am in someone else’s arms and it will not be when you throw the box of pictures and letters and memories across the room because they’re gone now. They are gone now and you can’t do a thing about it.

this is how you will fall out of love, it will be slow and it will be painful, like slowly tearing a band-aid off, except worse. It will be gradual, like the first time you realized you were falling into love. You may be walking down the hallway of your home when you forget what their nose looks like. There will be flashbacks and times where you imagine them to be right next to you at anytime. You will smell the cigarette smoke and look around, because that used to be them. A stranger will smile at you and you will wish they weren’t around to see you cry.


this is how you will fall out of love, when you realize you used past tense to talk about them. This time you did not have to correct yourself and you did not cry. There will be stormy nights and you will want to text them, “I miss you” but you don’t. You don’t because it’s time. It’s time and you both know it and even though it hurts, you make the decision to turn out the lights and fall asleep alone.
this is how you will fall out of love, you will see someone and think they are cute and you will not feel shame because you saw someone that was not them. You will find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror, with water dripping off of your freckled skin, right after your shower. You will connect your freckles and pinch your love handles and you will close your eyes and you will remember all the times they held you, but you will not miss them. You will allow yourself this one night of no regrets, this one night of not missing them, this one night of being alone and knowing you’re worthy, because there have been so many nights harder than this one.

this is how you will fall out of love, you will finally forgive them for keeping that from you. It will be less about forgiving and more about forgetting. You will stop blaming yourself, you will stop imagining a future where you meet ten years down the road in a coffee shop or a punk show where your favorite band is playing, and you start over. There is no starting over. You know this is the end. You know it won’t happen again.

this is how you will fall out of love, there will be many sleepless nights. there will be many sleepless nights. there will be many sleepless nights. there will be many sleepless nights, but one day you will drift off to sleep and you won’t dream of them. It will be hard and it may take seven months or a year or three years but you will fall out of love with them and it will hurt and you will hold them in your knees like grass stains that don’t wash out and you may forget their face and you may forget their name but they are a part of you now. You will fall out of love with them and they will fall out of love with you and you will forever see love differently. You will forever see God differently. You will talk to the Divine like they are human, like they are broken, like they have loved and lost it all, too.


this is how you will fall out of love, you will remember that you could never promise forever and you will realize that this was good for as long as it lasted. Your love was fresh and pure until it ran out. You will understand that it did not need to last forever, it did not need to become stale.

He talked about how he sees God in the rhythm of music. In a song he performed on the violin, he remarked on how the bass line seemed to disappear, but that was because it was leading to the most beautiful part of the song. And such as in life: When God may seem distant, He is leading to something beautiful beyond the darkness. The rhythm may be quiet, but it’s what we build our life on. We can’t have music without it. 

(Source: rising-stone, via sheisbethany)

smoke-stungeyes:

Whenever I’m sad, I remind myself of all the music I’ve yet to hear, the places I’ve yet to see, the people I’ve yet to meet, the coffee I’ve yet to drink, the books I’ve yet to read, and the waffles I’ve yet to eat.

(via sheisbethany)

wonderingthroughflowers:

I experienced a longing for a family today that I have never experienced in my life. After a lot of crying and singing, I realized that in actuality it was a longing to be known in an intimate unapologetic way. It’s not even about being known by another person, but about being known by Jesus- and since He does already know me, it’s about me letting Him. 

Love is saying “I do” even when you feel like you don’t.

—T.B. LaBerge // Unwritten Letters to You (via kvtes)

(Source: tblaberge, via kvtes)

starlit-glory:

My heart is so weak. so broken. Lord be the strength of my heart.

1) A boy telling you you’re pretty won’t make you see the beauty in the fullness of your cheeks, in redness of your lips at 2 in the morning when tequila is making the bar bathroom spin. He can’t take away the ugliness that you see in yourself, you have to do that.

2) You have to be ready to hear someone say they love you. You have to be ready, and you have to be willing, and you have to listen. Because sometimes, they won’t say those three words, they’ll put a blanket over you while you’re watching a movie, they’ll kiss your cheek when they think you’re asleep, they’ll smile when they see you first thing in the morning. But you, you have to be willing to see it, feel it, let it in. Letting someone love you takes practice.

3) Don’t make compromises you can’t live with. Compromise is a different version of what you want, not a whole other Universe.

4) Learn to say no. No - to a movie you don’t want to watch; no - to sex you don’t want to have, no- to a relationship that’s driving you mad. Say no - to things that hurt you, to people that extinguish your fire, to jobs you hate and places that are desolate. There are bad things that we can’t control, bad things that happen and we are sucked into and have to feel with every fibre of our being, but the rest - learn to distance yourself, learn to say no.

5) Don’t expect people to walk through fire for you - not your parents, not your friends, not the person you’re in love with. Love doesn’t mean sacrifice, love shouldn’t mean sacrifice. Don’t expect someone to give away pieces of them, so they could fit you better. And don’t feel hurt when they refuse to - it’s self-preservation. Instead - learn from them. Do it as well.

6) Don’t tether yourself to people. Learn to make connections, to love, with both your feet steady on the ground. Learn to let people pass through your life; like a summer breeze, not a storm that’s just been unleashed.

7) Learn the difference between growth and growing up before it’s too late. Rooftops and water fights and ice cream for breakfast can be a part of your life at 10, 25, or 35. But by the time you’re 35 you need to learn to say enough, to be able to walk away, you need to be able to love yourself. Love yourself the way you loved yourself at 10, before the world had a chance to fill your head with ugliness.

m.v., The list of things I learned before turning 22, pt.1. (via findingwordsforthoughts)

(via emmapeelwhatsthedeal)