Her Beautiful Mess

How did you find love? I asked.

“You see, my heart has always been like the sky on a clear, summer’s day. Open to all the world, yet cloudless, without the capacity to pain like thunder, or to cry like the rain.

But when he came into my life, he came in slowly. Quietly, he filled up the canvas like a creeping itch; and before I knew it, my feelings for him became a permanent art. He had taken up half the space, and all I could see, all I could feel, was him.

How did I find love? Love, in all its beautiful mess, found me.”

Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González
Anastasia Kuyvasheva by Cayetano González