Often, when I’m alone and surrounded by the beauty of nature, I’m filled with a love so intense that it frightens me. I want to shout it out at the top of my lungs. I want to find any outlet to release it, spread it around, and watch it grow. Inevitably, I end up crying silent tears. They are not tears of sadness, but tears of love – love that has outgrown my heart, pushed through my tear ducts and streamed down my cheeks. I think of all the people I love; of all the people who have made me big with their love. I hope that they know how much they mean to me, and I worry that I haven’t told them often – or recently – enough that I love them. I compose heartfelt
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