loving; the most beautiful moment in life

on loving, again, because perhaps love is the only thing worth writing about

“The Orange” by Wendy Cope / by @/mywaitisyou in tumblr

There’s this lady I have been seeing at my bus stop a few times, she has a face mask with cute flower prints, and every time she sees me, she makes sure to ask how my school is going (and then I explain to her the tragedy of my academic life, again). We met at the bus stop again this morning, the bus was late by an hour, and we found ourselves talking about everything beautiful we observed around us, and then we realized how everything we talked about was very ordinary. We then sat next to each other when our bus arrived, I swear for a second I thought this was the most beautiful moment of my life; sharing a moment of warmth with a stranger that i am too fond of and watching outside as she talks about her grandchildrens school grades. My dear friend, I have been thinking a lot about beauty and friendships lately, and how there’s so much beauty and love to be found in our ordinary lives. Feels like we simply are little creatures curated by all the love we see around us. I also think I should invite my dear grandma friend over for breakfast the next time i see her, ps; i made her read my first newsletter when we were in the bus :).

Love, he told me. Love everything from the grass to the first person who walks by in the street. Love it all. That’s the only thing that can make life not just bearable, but beautiful. Margarita Karapanou

A very dear friend of mine called me yesterday, she was in one of my favourite bookshops (which I have never been to, and which also is half a world away), I can’t think of ways to show her of my love for other than smiling at her warmly, from very far. I always struggle to write poems for the ones that I love. At times, the love I feel for people feels too engulfing to my heart, and I somehow can’t get my hands to write about the heartwrenching but also heart-lifting affection I feel towards my beloved ones. However, my dear friend, I think I could write three pages on my friend’s chipped tooth, and how it warms my heart every time she smiles. How I am too shy to hug some friends at times, not because they would mind it, but rather because I think I might cry from the comfort they carry in their arms. How my I think of my friends when I see flowers, and for some reason, how each of my friends reminds me of a very beloved flower of mine. Every time my dad calls to ask during the day if there’s anything I would like, or when my pen pal sends me a picture of their bright sky. My beloved friend, somehow love is everything I write about, but also the only thing I can not get myself to write about.

a tiny henna heart on my left hand

My dear friend, there is so much love to be found, and even the thought of this makes it all easier to bear. There’s so much more kindness to learn, more smiles to see, more moments where you warmly embrace your friends, and many more flowers to buy for them. My dear friend, every breath, every day, and every moment brings another possibility to love, another night to see the stars if the sky is clear enough, another day to read a book that makes you warm inside, another coffee that will melt you inside with its softness. We will never run out of things to love. I feel like love is so worth living for, I feel like every moment lived loving, perhaps is the most beautiful moment in my life.

@subwayhands on ig

Sometimes it feels like I am not loving enough, and sometimes I feel like I would have to turn into a walking heart in order to fit all the beloved ones in my tiny teeny heart. Love is worth it, my dear friend, love is worth the one-hour wait for a bus and the extra mile to reach a beloved one. Dear friend, I hope the last few weeks of May treat us kindly, I hope we keep on trying to love. Thank you for reading <3!

wholeheartedly,

Asiye.

💌 some poems on love, that I adore, as a gift to you, dear friend;

in the country of resurrection, ada limón – “but that was last night. this morning the sun is coming alive in the kitchen. you’ve gone to get us gas station coffee and there is so much life all over the place.”

into the breach, ocean vuong – “you’re so quiet you’re almost tomorrow. / i want to leave no one behind. to keep & be kept. the way a field turns its secrets into peonies. the way light keeps its shadow by swallowing it.”

when i am among the trees, mary oliver – “i am so distant from the hope of myself, in which i have goodness and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, ‘stay awhile.’ the light flows from their branches. and they call again, ‘it's simple,’ they say, ‘and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.’”

the thing is, ellen bass - “ Then you hold life like a face / between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you / I will love you, again. ”