Promise me that you will
never allow yourself to be loved in halves again, that you
will fall in love with someone who makes you question why you
ever thought you weren't whole to begin with. Promise me
that you will rise with this new spring, that you will thaw
your winter wounds with summer's air and pack the gaps of
your heart with its soil – for what a gift it is to be
new again, what a gift it is to grow.
— Bianca
Sparacino
