The root of love.

I don't know how to put this. This is November. Early November. Last week, I saw the first snow. 

I feel love, tonight, flowing through my arms, my chest, my organs, my veins. Overwhelming, I must say. I kissed my fingers, I kissed my palms. Or it was my palms, kissing my lips. That incredible, powerful, gentle love. The kind of love when you are embraced and you feel safe, warm, and not afraid. I believe that that love has been here, waiting for me to recognize it. To open the gate. To let it flow like water. Cold; alive. 

I didn't drink from the starbucks coffee bottle. I drank water in my mug. Once I acknowledge that love, the love that has never left, never changed, never stopped; the love that I have for my body, myself; I didn't want to hurt it anymore. I didn't want to hurt my body anymore.