vagabond (n): a rootless wanderer.
APS | '93 | a collection of my interests. | twitter/IG @sicanantos.
you can learn a thing or two about me by browsin' through this shit.
I am not an easy person to love. Some days I will whisper how beautiful you are while planting gentle kisses all over your body. You will giggle and try to fight me off and in that moment my heart will have never felt so light.
But other days when my mind is a storm cloud threatening to explode, I will be a bundle of emotions that I cannot quite keep contained. I will be cold, distant, and you will look at me like I am not the same person you fell in love with.
I am a broken light switch. My moods flicker without anyone flipping me on and off. I wake up each morning and wonder which me you will encounter that day. I always hope it is the one who makes you want to stick around.
I am not easy to love. But what I need you to understand is that whether there is a war raging inside of my mind or I am the kind person that you adore, I will always love you.
I will love you in the morning. I will love you when you cry. I will love you when I am angry. I will love you when you’re being stubborn. I will love you when I don’t even love myself. I will love you.
I know that there will be days when you want to give up on me but I am asking you, please don’t. You see, you are the only one who has been able to settle the storm inside of me before I even realize it is surfacing.
I am not easy to love but I promise that I will always put up a fight. And I will love you no matter what.
Growing up I always thought true love was red roses, dates on Saturday nights, little black box that held expensive things, and always knowing what to say. I thought true love was a kiss in the rain, deep explanations, and the perfect story. But now that I’m older I’ve realized it’s not like that at all.
See because true love for me is ugly snapchats, and peeing while you’re on the phone. True love is kissing at 6 AM despite the morning breath and singing at the top of your lungs. It’s saying all the wrong things, at all the wrong moments. It’s sarcasm and being honest even when it hurts. It’s late hours of the night when it’s been a long day and it’s no make up and bad hair. It’s tears from laughter, it’s tears from sadness and it’s nothing like any storybook you’ve ever read. It’s never running out of things to talk about, and it’s being comfortable in the silence of things. True love is watching The Titanic though you swore you never would. It’s getting mad over stupid things. It’s “you’re an idiot,” and “you’re a little shit” and knowing you’re so lucky to hear those every day. It’s spilling your feelings at 4 AM when you should be asleep. It’s that song you hear on the radio that always makes you smile. It’s the worst story you could imagine, but thank God it worked out anyways. True love is never losing the magic. True love is not leaving when things get hard.
I like my definition better anyways.
thousands of flower petals covering a town, blasted from a neighboring volcano in Costa Rica.
photographed by Nick Meek