I know I have a beautiful soul.

I know because I hold undeniable love inside of me.

I know because when I look up at the night sky sprinkled with bright stars millions of miles away, my soul burns with a fire of connection.

I feel free.

I feel as though I could do anything I set my mind to.

Some days I want to travel the world.

Some days I want to stay inside all day and marinate in my sense of loneliness and solidity.

Some days I want to release myself from this constant wonder of, “What’s next after my heart stops beating? Why am I here? Why are we here? What’s my purpose?” and let myself fade away into the universe, so my soul can roam with the stars.

I want so badly to have a purpose; I want so badly to find my purpose.

I have passions, but are they passions or just actions that bring me relief?

I love to write.

But am I writing because it’s my passion or am I writing to suppress the fire burning inside my soul, and inside my head begging for a way out?

Unmeasurable thoughts rush through my brain every minute.

These aren’t normal thoughts.

These are thoughts so powerful and loud I can feel them deep down in my stomach.

I feel them in my heart, and in my soul. They are compelling, and demand a presence; they cannot be ignored.

Writing is my outlet.

Writing helps me make sense of the thoughts that dictate my brain.

Writing helps me catch a breath from myself.

Why am I here?

Am I here to write down my feelings and to write poetry?

Am I here to take photographs of all the things I find beautiful in the world?

Am I here to work and be a part of something bigger, have a family and spend the rest of my life with someone I love?

All of this seems too simple.

Why am I here?

Why are we here and what happens when we die?

I do not doubt for a second there is more life in this universe than just us.

I’m knowledgeable of the Bible, but I do not have a religion.

I know of all these theories and beliefs, but none have ever stuck with me.

I’ve driven myself crazy on late-night drives home thinking of all the possible reasons we are here, what may happen when we take our last breath, and what happens when our world burns out.

There are all these answers out there, but my mind can’t seem to accept them.

I do not know what my purpose in life is or what purpose life has.

I know that love is a powerful and beautiful thing.

It can bring people together, or it can tear them apart.

It can break or mend a beautiful heart.

I can’t deny the power of love, and I can only embrace the amount pouring out of me.

Our world is undeniably full of hate, war, racism, disaster, celebration, adventure, confusion, and triumph.

But what is most powerfully undeniable is love.

I don’t know what my purpose is or why I am here.

I am full of all of these thoughts and feelings.

I am full of care, confusion, curiosity, happiness, sadness, pain, empathy, yearning, depression, positivity, indifference, and sincerity.

But what drives me to keep going, what makes me get up every morning, and what oozes out of every part of my being, is love.