One Woman Show : Runway Modeling at The Wild Project.



On October 8th, 2016 – I had the privilege of being booked as a solo runway model for an incredible show at The Wild Project, featuring some of the most well-known and prestigious singers, song-writers, and spoken word artists from the Lower East Side.

Serving one look, after the next.

I've come a long way from the girl who'd always walk with her head down. Those days are gone.

A video posted by Jessica Torres (@xojessicatorres) on

 Being the only model to walk in this runway entirely on my own provided me with the freedom and power to prove that woman are multifaceted individuals, capable of moving with grace and carrying themselves with a confident demeanor and elegant presence that demands respect. One woman. Every woman.

Jessica Torres Featured on Thirteen WNET’s Open Mic Night on PBS.

I had the honor of being selected to appear on Thirteen WNET’s livestream for their first ever, open-mic night in their studio.

I was among a lineup of diverse talent in NYC :

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I made history as the youngest artist to appear that night on Thirteen WNET!

The livestream of the event is now available to watch via the link below :

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2 hours & 12 minutes in, you’ll find  Jessica’s feature, including two spoken word pieces.

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You’ve changed.
That’s what they keep telling me.

You’ve… changed.

Of course,
you’re right.
I’m not the
young girl
I used to be.

I won’t walk around
with my head down,
chin staring blankly at the concrete,
to hide the teardrops
streaming down my cheeks –
no, not anymore.
I won’t suck in my stomach to impress you.
I won’t foam at the mouth for your
insignificant validation.
I won’t restrict or suppress
my mind,
to articulate my soul
in fear of being ridiculed.

No, not anymore.
This little light of mine
I’m gonna let it shine.
Even if it’s blinding to your

You know why?

I remember saying out loud
“I hate myself”.
couldn’t bare to
glare at
my reflection
without being reminded
of the words I heard –

he said
she said
they told me

“you aren’t worthy”
and I

Dear diary,
I wish I was beautiful.
what’s wrong with me?

I recall
nauseated feeling
in my stomach
I’d get from seeing the
morning sunshine.
My dad having to drag me
out of bed each morning
because I didn’t want to be awake to begin with.
I remember walking in the school
building like
a walking corpse
bones aching
hands trembling
face radiating warmth
from my blood pressurerising
heart palpitating
in fear of fear itself.
I remember
sitting in the back of class
like a wallflower yet to bloom
aching to be noticed
but begging internally
not to be approached,
only speaking unless
spoken to first.

I remember the
I painted on my wrists
so passionately,
I tried to hide with
long sleeves in the summer
and stacks of silver
and gold jewelry.

I remember when I
gave myself
pep talks in the mirror
on the nights
I ached with desperation
to leave this world-

I told myself,
listen –
you and me.
We… will be amazing.
Everything is
going to change.

And now,
I love myself
I wink at my reflection
every time we meet.
Damn gurl, you look
so beautiful
inside and out –
you make younger me so proud.

Now, in her loving memory –
I caress this
goddess given
throne every chance I get,
acknowledge my intellect
treat myself with the utmost respect.
I adore this glorious
hourglass figure
these full hips
and insightful
uncensored lips.
I now utilize
as spite
to further amplify
the rhythm
of my heartbeat,
satisfy the
fibers of which
my mind speaks.

I purposely
smile blissfully
laugh obnoxiously
exist unremoursefully
speak uncensored
however I ache
to do so,
because I learned…

I deserve to
grow into the
rare caliber
of woman I
have transformed into.

When you say
“You’ve changed”,
I would hope so.

I am better than I was.
and I will be even
better than I am.

I’m only just
getting started.

How To Love

I am almost 20 years old and I have never been in a relationship.

My soul is just too sacred,
my mind is too powerful,
my heart is too golden
to let it be touched
by anyone with impure intentions.

I involuntarily flinch every time a guy grows close to me emotionally –

Don’t take it personally,
It’s not you. It’s me.
It’s a natural impulse of mine to fear attachment to any human being.
After spending my entire existence watching my mom be dominated by a man who believes he is in control of her every word, breathe, movement and action.
I’ve had no choice but to sit back idly,
as he knocks on the bathroom door until his knuckles bleed just to get to her on the other side who was likely glaring at her reflection attempting to collect the remains of her sanity.
After reliving the aftermath on the daily –
Nobody can ever tell me,
nor dare to attempt to convince me,
that I owe anyone an apology for refusing to grant them access to me.

Mark my words, after all I’ve observed –
I will be damned if I ever dare allow a man to have the audacity to label me as his property.
I will never owe anyone an apology for openly,
enunciating the words to him thoroughly.
“I belong to me.”

This,should be common knowledge.
But common sense is unfortunately,
far from common.
Ignorance is caressed with open arms far too often.
I promise,
out of all the vulnerable words
I release into the galaxy –
you won’t ever hear me say sorry.
Especially not when I’ve had men old enough to be my father verbally harass me,
broad daylight in the streets of the insomniac city –
with what it supposedly deemed to be complimentary.
Uncomfortably whispering in my ear,
Baby, come here…
I must admit –
after I unlearned what this society had previously taught me.
I was able to recognize that I have
have more to offer than my thick thighs and a 36C sized chest.

Yes, even then…
I am so much more than a body.
I am a mind, heart, soul, spirit,
with passion, ambition, and intriguing intellect.
don’t ever be surprised that I refuse to
ever settle for less than the absolute best.
Keeping it real,
nothing has ever fueled me more than striving for the impractical.
That’s why my standards are ridiculously high
and I insist on being unbareably high maintenance.
It’s unhealthy but I only ever ache to make love with the impossible.
I only crave what’s forbidden,
human interaction, affection, love, and attention.
It’s evident that the environment I was raised in –
is entirely to blame for my unconscious quivering hands,
shaky knees, and crippling social anxiety.
I’d love to understand the deeper
physcology as to why
despite my expectations,
I just can’t resist the temptation
but to fall for a guy who settled for her, over me…
and is content with
letting me be his second choice

Backup option.


Plan B.



What if.

Just in case.

Like, I’m not a priority.

When I should be. When I am.

Even on the days he’s intertwining his soul
with some girl who will never love him as much as me,

I will still keep myself up past 3
bleeding on my satin bed sheets,
composing poetry about him,
that he’ll never even read.

Maybe I just love it when people hurt me.

Because negativity fuels me.

Hatred amplifys me.

Caressing pain with open arms is the only way I know how I survive.

I grew up learning to believe I was supposed to tolerate abuse because
apparently –

if a man loves you,
He’ll tell you that the door is always open for you to go,
But once you’ve finally had enough and your bags are finally packed –
He’s contradicting himself, holding you back

But yelling…

Go ahead and leave –

You will never find someone who will “love you like me.”

if a man cares about you –

he will immerse you in the twisted art of reverse physcology.
Manipulating you into believing being emotionally traumatized
is a confirmation of his love for you.

I was convinced by the age of 5 that romance was alive when my mom would

call the police past midnight,

only to open the door when they arrive with bruised eyes

and a voice behind her back

telling her to say

“Nothing’s wrong officer, I overreacted”.

I was convinced that love was staying

despite him having yet another

emotional breakdown,
yet Another bipolar tantrum.

Exhibiting yet another instance of domestic violence.

But love is supposed to make you feel like you can’t breathe, right?

When my dad had his arms gripped around her neck.

It confirmed the answer to be yes.

Love is supposed to make you feel like your suffocating anyway, isn’t it?

Little me remembers,

She will never forget

asking, “Mommy When are you going to leave daddy?”

Please Don’t cry.

Let’s start packing our bags right now.

Let’s just runaway from home and never look back.



I don’t know if you have ever known it be real in your life

But please

just look at me

When you need a reminder

Or if you ever forget

What real love is supposed to feel like.


Performing at Lincoln Center’s David Rubenstein Atrium as part of the Poet-Linc Mentorship Program, April 7th.

At this very moment,
life is happening.
The future is unraveling.
Right here, right now.
What are you going to do with it?
Wait, stop.
Don’t stop.
Don’t wait.
Don’t waste another precious second.
I know you think you are going to get another in the next.
But what if you don’t?
What if you do?
What are you going to do with it?
How are you going to utilize it?
Hold on.
Don’t answer that.
Don’t wait.
Don’t blink.
Don’t think about it too much too much too much,
Like drake
Don’t get sentimental about all the memories that got away,
or you just might waste your entire existence contemplating your moment away.
Aren’t you exhausted of mindlessly scrolling through your news feed, heartbeat amplifying vigorously
Cranium pulsating from restricted creativity, suppressed revolutionary concepts –
yet you settle for barely breathing, merely existing.

Aren’t you tired…
Of sleeping?

I think
I speak too much.
or not enough.
I’m too quiet,
or too loud.
Shut up.
Damn it.
Control yourself.

Don’t let them know what your thinking.
They will only misinterpret or neglect to appreciate your intellect
Manipulate you into believing you are unworthy of speaking.

We’ve all heard the voices of other people in our brains.
You and I both.

But what about your own?
Listen to it.
What is it telling you to say?

That’s it.
Don’t tell me how to live my life.
It doesn’t concern you.
Leave me alone,
you aren’t worthy of taking
up a space in my brain.
Go away…

I’m sorry.

No, I’m not.
Life is too short for apologies.
I can’t hear myself think,
let alone speak.
I keep telling myself,
shut up.
Remain low-key.
be quite.

But please,
Say something.
let them know you exist.
This silence is deafening,
and it not only will be the death of me but all of humanity.

This is your moment.
Don’t ever doubt it.
You were released from the womb nude,
exposed with nothing but vulnerability,
and yet you still came out screaming,
unable to speak but determined to
let your voice be recognized.

Don’t you ever be silent.
Don’t you ever be quite.

Say it.
Out loud.

They will remember me.

Say it.

Out loud.
They will remember me.


Lyrics :
I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone
the first time you were trying to call.
I was reluctant to fall because I was terrified.
Please know,
letting this connection fade was far from my intention.
I figured, I would be damned regardless
if I let you in or if I didn’t.
I predicted this end before it began.

My bad…
My bad.

Oh, I ever imagined I’d be craving you like this.
Maybe, I just want you when I can’t have you…
Reminiscent to the dreams I’m endlessly chasing.
An unhealthy obsession,
I ache to make love with the impossible.
That’s why I…
want you so bad.

Maybe it’s true,
there’s nothing sweeter
than the forbidden fruit.

I wanna taste you,
I only wanna kiss you.

Oh I, can’t help but wonder –
Do the words I never said,
never told you,
echo in your head?
Tell me, do I linger in your wildest dreams the
same way you do in mine?
Do our lips only touch
when our bodies are laying separately,
Do we communicate
Are we loving each other subliminally?
Does my heart ever intertwine
your mind anymore?

Please tell me,
I’d love to hear the caos in your mind.
We can go, all night.
Cause I’m laying here idle on the phone,
life of the line
on full exposure.
Tell me,
if we’re just getting started
or if it’s truly over.

I want you,
I need you.

Tell me,
is the feeling mutual?

Can we,
connect like we used to?

Loving you when you love someone else
is exhausting.

The assumptions are
killing me softly.

Am I sleeping?
Is it too late?
Am I too far?
Am I too close?

Are you… listening?
Do you hear me?
Answer me,

I’m sorry.
We got so disconnected.

Can we try again?

How To Love

I still remember the vibration of roof trembling noise
amid my mom and dad’s bitter exchanges –
at, of all places – my home.
The only place of warmth and love I’ve ever known.
I recall oh so vividly – little me…
still evolving, progressing, adjusting –
to the air I was breathing, unknowingly…
absorbing malicious words being said around me,
before I even was able to recognize the sound of my own heartbeat.

And even then, I couldn’t help but question –
why two people who hate each other so much
insist on staying together for an eternity.
C’mon – really?

That’s way too much time to spend being forcefully satisfied,
solely immersed in miserable company.
Forever is too long to willingly spend with closed eyes
and a battered heart –
only progressively aging with time
till’ it’s ripped to shreds, in microscopic pieces,
entirely scattered apart.

When they committed to be wed, there’s a reason –

they mutually agreed, nodded their head and both verbally said,

For better or for worse,
till death do us part.

Till death do they part –
in more ways than one.

People aren’t destined to belong to other people anyway.
The thought of that is so…
overrated, harmfully glorified and romanticized.
Somebody tell me why,
are we all so damn lonely and deluded that we oblige…
to enable other human beings to not only refer to us,
but claim us as “mine”.
I have yet to embrace this absurd concept of being in a relationship.
Quite frankly,
I could never bring myself to understand it… let alone immerse myself in it.
Heaven knows I have tried.
But regardless of  how many conclusions I come to,
I know I’m destined to  misinterpret or abandon it,
Just like the concept itself, it’s merely a waste of precious time.

Especially when there’s so much more
to strive for, caress, and conquer
than another human being.

Maybe, it’s just me –
with this closed off, yet vacantly open mind.

I’m the only person my age
who is authentically focused on chasing dreams,
mind set on reality – above deluded fantasies.
Oh, the irony.

Likely –
a result of the fact that I spent a lifetime watching my mother be dominated by a man who believes he is in control of her

every word, breathe, movement and action.
I’ve had no choice but to sit back idly,
as he knocks on the bathroom door until  his knuckles bleed
just to get to her on the other side –
who was likely glaring at her reflection silently…
attempting to collect the remains of her sanity.
She knew she had an obligation to set the example for her youngest baby, little me.
And rightfully so,

I’ve never stopped watching the queen herself
collect pieces of her crown that the man she loved, shattered across the ground.

After reliving the aftermath on the daily –
Nobody can ever tell me,
nor dare to attempt to convince me,
that I owe anyone an apology for refusing
to grant them access to my sacred heart.
Mark my words,
after all it has observed –
I will be damned if I ever dare allow a man to have the
audacity to label me as his property,.
I will never owe anyone an apology for openly,
enunciating the words to him thoroughly,

I belong to me.

This, should be common knowledge.
But common sense is unfortunately, far from common.
Ignorance is caressed with open arms far too often.

I refuse to let ever let the world get the best of me.

I promise,
out of all the vulnerable words I release into the galaxy –
you won’t hear me say sorry.

Especially not when I’ve had men old enough to be my father verbally harass me,
broad daylight in the streets of the insomniac city –
with what it supposedly deemed to be complimentary.
Uncomfortably whispering in my ear,

Baby, come here…

While I’m begging internally  for them to not dare step any closer to me.
Why can’t I ever just reach my destination peacefully?
Without having to increase the pace of my walk due to my ever increasing anxiety?
I would love to breathe the air around me graciously,
without my heart rate skyrocketing instantaneously.

In that context, being called beautiful is no longer classified as chivalry –
it is defined appropriately, as misogyny.

I must admit –
after I unlearned what this society had previously taught me…
I was able to recognize that I,
have more to offer than my thick thighs and a 36C sized chest.

 Yes, better believe that even then…
I am so much more.
I have passion, depth, and intriguing intellect.
don’t ever be surprised that I refuse to ever settle for less than the absolute best.
I deserve not the world, but the entire universe.
And even then, I wouldn’t ever necessarily depend on a man to give that to me.

I am not eye candy, I am soul food.
Cooked tenderly and deliciously, but not so easy to digest.

Since I have grown,
I have come to recognize that
I am a masterpiece of the rarest quality in my own bones –
I am a queen on the throne, even if I willingly sit up here all alone…
with no hand to grasp for dear life but my own.

It’s not you,
it’s me.

I’ve just… never been with anyone other than myself.
I’m unconsciously, yet intentionally hard to love.

Don’t take it personally.  It’s not, it’s me.
Understand my perspective.

I have to protect myself unapologetically.

Because if I don’t- nobody else will.

I take immense pride in my blind optimism, hopeless devotion, and delusional expectations.
I have faith someone somewhere,
eventually someday – potentially,
in another kingdom far far away… will reach them.
Just like my dreams which reside among the stars in the sky –
nothing has ever fueled me more than aiming for the impractical.

I only ever seem to want what’s forbidden,

as mutual as then men brave enough to pursue me, oh so respectfully thirst driven.

I have a guilty pleasure for the man with passion running in his veins,
and a burning flame in the core of the chest.
The one who strums my pain with his fingers,
kills me softly with the song he composed yet doesn’t know the words to,
tucks at my heartstrings with purpose and devotion.
I confess,
there’s nothing more attractive
than the unstoppable heart with a mission.
There’s this unorthodox infatuation I have
with the man who won’t ever reciprocate the
vibes I’m omitting,
nor return the energy I’m giving.
It’s unhealthy but I truly,
only ever ache to make love with the impossible.
When he was reaching out to hold my hand,
I didn’t interlock my fingertips with his when it was right there to grasp.
But once he strung someone else along with the proper chords,
I found myself craving him desperately.

I realize I only want what I can’t have…

human interaction, affection, and attention.
It’s as evident that the environment I was raised in –
is entirely to blame for my unconscious quivering hands, shaky knees, and crippling social anxiety.

Only heaven knows why…
I’m so obsessed with the hypnotic colors of the sky, rhythm and rhyme, overthinking, daydreaming about flying,
and killing precious time with words that don’t mean anything yet simultaneously mean everything.

I can’t help but question everything in existence,
all the little aspects previously claimed to be obvious –

Like, why…
have I always been physically incapable of looking another human being in the eye?
I assume,

it’s because the mere thought of giving anyone the power to cease my vulnerability –
let alone allow them to know it actually exists,
sends goosebumps igniting down my spine.
And no, not the beautiful kind-
more along the thin line of love and hate, intriguing but chilling.
The kind that provokes your bones to internally scream, physically ache.
I’m always trying to pretend that I am authentically as brave as I am in my visions.
I’m terrified to let anyone see that I might not be as brave as I visually seem
or portray myself to be.

If they knew,
would they use my weaknesses against me?
Or would they accomplish the impossible task
of loving me unconditionally in the same
instance only my mom barely can?
I’m scared to embrace new people in my life because of the way
they scarred me previously.
Quite literally,
they left my veins bleeding golden stars –
leaving trails of evidence along the vacant yet,
crowded hallways of my rib-cage.
I was bullied mercilessly, underestimated and targeted for as long as I could breathe.

As much as I try to make it seem so otherwise,
these trust issues of mine only seem to amplify with time.
No matter how strong I evolve,
the adolescent in me will eternally be traumatized.
Since they’ve blocked out the morning sunrise,

I haven’t been able to let anyone
close enough to me to keep an acquaintance,
let alone a sincere friend.

So, the real question I ask myself is…

Will I ever be capable of handling a full blown relationship?

All I ever really need… is someone to listen to me.
I have so much love to give away, with nobody who wants to let me in.

So… who is doing who wrong?
Is it me?
Or is it them?

They’re lacking empathy,
they refuse to attempt to understand me.
They won’t even come remotely close enough  to
discover the heart that resides up my sleeve.
They will only ever always, distort the vision I see so clearly.

I need space.
Wait, come back –
please love me.

Don’t go away.
did I just say that?

Never mind –
I don’t need you.
I’m sorry…

No, I’m not.
Fuck an apology.

they’re right.
I am complicated.

Even my ego is woman enough to admit –

nobody deserves to be the one who loves me enough to obligate themselves to deal with me… this… travesty with a barely there heartbeat.

Do us both a favor and leave me alone.

It’s okay,
I can handle myself on my own.


 being by my own side doesn’t make me glow nor blush –
it isn’t as heavenly as brushing shoulders with you unconsciously

Nothing in the universe compares to the intriguing feeling of butterflies violently communicating with each other on the inside of me when we accidentally touch.

It seems that since we met,
he is never not my first thought in the morning.
For the past 365 days plus,
I am both astonished and ashamed to say that I’ve thought about him every single day even on those of which he doesn’t dare acknowledge my existence.
As much as it brings me much light and shade,

I’ve tried to erase him from my memory too many times only because
I know, somebody more significant than me has already taken up the vast majority of the space in his brain.

She has amplified his heartbeat, send it skyrocketing in the way I almost did.
It’s such a shame that that we woke up from this dream before
we even got to rest together peacefully,
be one with each other in perfect harmony.
The way it unraveled isn’t how it was meant to be..

Don’t put me through this anymore,
delete my number,
just go,
don’t text me or try to come back for me anymore.

But please,
if you ever leave –
promise your being will subconsciously look for me in your next.

May this not come across as overly pretentious, but I can only dream that you’ll imagine it’s me when she’s tracing her fingertips along the masterpiece of your chest.
Even if you forget, please remember me. 

As long as we continue to grow apart together separately,

I hope you find enough peace to finally exist, happily.
Keep me embedded in your mind, heart, soul, and loving memory.

I wish I never let you
get inside my head and yet,
I’m so thankful you did.
You opened my mind to a point where I now
see the world around me in a way I never did.

You really should be so proud of yourself.

Even though you didn’t unlock the opportunity to hold my hand,

you accomplished something even more unlikely –

You managed to make me think of someone other than myself.

I only saw stars in your eyes
because you was the innovator –
the first being in this otherwise dim world who dared to take
notice of my essence,
acknowledge my existence,
absorb my insight,
appreciate my intellect,
yet alone actually…intensely, listen.
The impossible was what he did.

We lost and found ourselves amid
our subtly loud exchanges and silent devotion –
between the thought provoking words unspoken,
with everything and nothing out in the open.

I imagine how our heartbeats would’ve synced beautifully,  if we had only first met on that lustful evening in July.
But we didn’t, all because I refused and denied,
restricted by my pride…
I was terrified.
I knew I was going to fall in… love.

Whatever that is – I wasn’t ready for it.
Therefore, I obligated myself to ignore any and all emotions for you.
I laid in my bedroom gazing at the ceiling with starlit eyes all summer long –

hopelessly wishing to be caressing you by my side.
Feeling like Juliet writing love letters I would never send to the guy I was meant to be with,
but could never reach…  without it being complicated.
I was left with nothing but pieces of poetry he influenced,
held hostage up in my sleeve
that you never even earned the opportunity to read.
The first one I ever wrote was written with tear stained fingertips, composed in subtle script, the initial excerpt of this trilogy began and ended like this –

So close,
yet so far.
You’re right here with me,
but I’m not where you are.

Where do we
I mean…Where do I go from here?

Is it really this complicated? Or am I just making it like this?
Is it really this intense? Or am I just diving in too deep?

Is it just me? Do I speak my mind too often? Or not enough?

Is it because I’m both narcissistic and deeply insecure?
Is the reason I don’t know how to approach and react because
I’m the most complex combination of intro and extrovert?
I am a walking, talking, breathing, thriving contradiction –
I’m the human form of Pandora’s box
that has yet to ever be opened by anyone,
yet is always unlocked –
spilling ink, exposing information I shouldn’t.

I crave touch yet I flinch whenever someone has found the audacity
to approach me close enough.

My perception of love always has been distorted.

I grew up learning to believe I was supposed to tolerate abuse because
apparently –

if a man loves you,
He’ll tell you that the door is always open for you to go,
But once you’ve finally had enough and your bags are packed –
he’s releasing the demons from his lungs,
provoking you further, yelling

Go ahead and leave –
You will never find someone who will love you like me .

I was convinced by the age of 5 that romance was alive
when two people despise each other enough to barely tolerate living together but being unable to live without each other.

If a man cares about you deeply,
he will immerse you in the twisted art of reverse physcology.
Manipulating you on the daily and make it seem like it’s done lovingly,
rather than maliciously.

I don’t know how to love.
But then again, who really does?

To be or not to be? Love or hate? Infatuation or lust?  Empowered in the midst of isolation or together anticipating the inevitable separation?

In the end,  we will all leave this world alone with nothing.
Unfiltered reality of it all is, each of our hearts will inevitably, unpredictably com-bust.
All we are ultimately left with is memories of what we
done but didn’t.

Do or do not, you will regret both.

So, we may as well just shatter ourselves to pieces with purpose –
while we still have the chance to.
Spare our hearts to someone, anyone-
who is willing to take it away from us
and grant them permission to recklessly tear in two.

I’ve got an open mind now.
I can see how and why people love the adrenaline rush they get from experiencing
their blood pressure intensify.

I understand how they are able to see beauty amid caos after losing all of the
sane sight in their eyes. But I see it now – love sincerely is, blind.

We’re all just going to leave this earth without our significant someone –
go our separate ways up into the galaxy and transform to stardust.
So, We may as well approach life boldly,and embrace every ounce of spontaneity we suppress within before our bones decay.

Why or why not? Should I, Could I, Would I? Does he love me, need me, want me, not?

How many flower petals will I sacrifice in exchange for answers before I’m able to sleep at night?

How about this… let’s all just welcome whatever love may come
and let go of whoever doesn’t care enough to stay.

Has it really been this simple all this time?

It’s only as complicated as we make it.

I truly believe, I’m ready now.

I will learn how to love someday.
Until then, I will wait as long as necessary.

I won’t disturb the universe.

In time, we’ll see.