Death Is A Dance On The Forest Floor

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A younger me might've said beauty.

Every word I ever wrote was in pursuit of it; everyone I ever loved was the personification of it. I saw it where no one else did and believed in it where others thought it impossible. My peers were obsessed with the surface of it. I felt it behind everything, blood through the veins of the world, everything glowing with darkness and light. Everything connected by it.

Beauty isn't the word for it, of course. I just didn't know what else to call it. Still don't, I guess... but we'll call it magic, because that's what it feels like. I was in love with the magic of this whole crazy world. I fell in love with people who could see it too.