If I was asked to describe us in a few words, I might start frantically putting adjectives after another, trying to cling to those words and pretending to know what they mean, really. I might also tell you that there can never be enough words to describe the immense amount of affection and connection you feel towards some people.

Unfortunately, I do not know myself well enough to tell you which one it will be, or if I’ll surprise the both of us with a totally different answer. But perhaps they do. And perhaps that is all you need to know.

I was asked repeatedly to write about us, and now I don’t know what to tell you, except my daydreams and how we make each other see the beauty in the mundane, even though we don’t want to be mundane, or ordinary even.

In a pretentious attempt to do what only a small number of those who dreamt of it actually succeeded in, we want to be seen. We want to be seen and to change and as I am writing this, I realise I don’t recall what many other things we want to do, because it all seems to be so far away.

Lone once said that love is revelation and vulnerability and love is also acceptance and I think that is one of the truest things I have ever heard. So, because I love us, I will be nothing but honest in my writing about us. And if you love us back, you will accept those truths just as freely as they are given to you by me.

i. the melancholic

You will know her when you see her. You will Spot the tall girl carrying herself with such confidence and she will make you stop in your tracks, because that’s what she does to people. And I will pity you because you’ll never quite be able to feel all of the warmth and the sense of understanding and caring and the deep sadness that is somewhere within her and the beauty of all of that. And yet when you see the girl with the long brown hair and the golden necklace dangling from her collar, you will know Jane.

ii. the aesthete

You’ll want to put her in a heart-shaped locket and wear her essence around your neck all day, the little necklace pending just above her heart. Pour everything that i her into the tiny piece of jewellery. Every little snapshot she takes of the smallest moments, god forbid any of those memories she so avidly collects should ever be forgotten. And you’ll get goosebumps all over your body every time the locket closes around your neck because that’s the faint sound of summer around the corner, of Lone just above your heart.

iii. the wanderer

Piercing brown eyes, a disarming smirk and a burning passion for the unknown. She tells a story, of the places and people that have merged with her on the way. Jumping through life from chapter to chapter, trying to find a home somewhere between all of those pages. What is home? She is home, and the world is Yoli’s home.

iv. the thinker

They, who will hand you spectacles to see the world in a way that you never have before. With a mind like clockwork, the little gears constantly rattling and grinding, they spend their life looking for the deeper meaning, the missing piece, the final stroke. They put worlds between who they are and who they used to be when they started growing one day and simply didn’t stop. Let them plant that seed of growth in you and Puck will remind you, day and day again, what it means to be alive.

v. the writer

The face behind the stories. Chipped nail polish on the fingers scribbling word for word in an old notebook. The writing stops, because describing oneself is the hardest of tasks and it’s been deferred one too many years now. But we must try regardless. Imagine a person so little because how can we be anything but tiny in a universe so full. Imagine Lou standing tall because that’s who they decided to become. In hopes of being one of the many flames to spark the fire, I raise my voice. A brick in one hand and a pencil in the other.