Ever notice how it seems like you met the perfect person through this bizarre avenue of connecting with other people we have come to know as Tumblr?
She is beautiful
She is intelligent
She is sex
She is a firecracker
She is submissive
She is caring
She is on the other fucking side of the world or just far enough away that it makes it even more torturous than if she were in Antarctica.
Just 3 hours or 6 or 10. Just enough to make it unrealistic.
So, what does one do who chases passion? Passion, after all, is void of logic. It’s kind of the definition of passion, after all.
My answer: Live in your heart. Always.
Fuck it. Find a way. Buy a ticket. Book a hotel.
And Meet Me In St. Louis. Or Atlanta. Or DFW. Or LA. Or who fucking cares.
Live in your heart. Chase life. You may regret the aftermath, but never as much as the not knowing. We have all known both regrets and it’s the what-ifs that will come back and eat you alive.
If you want it that bad, make it happen.
The Marriott. The Hilton. The Hyatt. The Hard Rock. The Ramada. The Fill-In-The-Fucking Blank to the best night of your life.
No Regrets. No Questions.
Swipe the card. Before you know it the card being swiped is has a room number on it. And it’s off to the races. It’s off to the now-knowing.
And besides, my favorite song of all time is right below. Maybe make it a holiday trip, at least in your heart…
…and meet me in St. Louis.
Where our troubles will be miles away.