“I Went Crazy When I Was With You. I Can’t Let That Happen Again. Love Is Not Supposed To Do That.

What a mess we made trying to prove we don't need each other.

I remembered the other day I was given an opportunity to return to the town we met. Your town. I didn’t take it … but I wonder if I would’ve run into you. Fate being the cruel mistress she is sending us back towards one another. You’re a ghost to me now, so faded in the distance yet the memories send cold shivers down my spine. You haunt me, creeping back in right when I forget to remember you. I wonder what look you’d have on your face if you saw me. would you leave like I did? Would you say something after all this time? Would you pretend you didn’t know me ? Like we were nothing? I don’t think I could take it if you did. So I didn’t go. I’ve avoided it if I’m being honest, I don’t know what it would feel like to be back in a town I once called home. It’s a ghost town to me, memories of you walking the streets. In baseball fields and football games. Somehow you even stole the sunset. How can something so long forgotten by one still have such a strong hold on the other after all these years ?

“part of me is mad that i wrote you into my stories. because i can no longer read them without falling in love, and breaking my heart at the same time. but part of me is so glad i did. because it reminds of how beautiful our love was, even if it destroyed me.”

i still miss you (via baby-imyoursx)

A letter to my 19 year old self.

Stop letting a broke heart make decisions for you. Ignore that selfish thing when it pumps wildly. Ignore it when the shattering is so deafening it feels impossible to block out. Stop running from the pain, because no matter where you go it will find you, it will cling to you like a shadow and it won’t keep the what if’s away.

Somewhere, there’s a version of us that survived.

I let you ruin me, and the worst part is I’d do it all again without a second thought. I’d beg for it.

- Clementine Von Radics

It’s easy to see now, you were begging me to love you and I was teaching you to unlove me…

Sometimes I forget that you used to write about me. I forget that you loved me with the same fire that burned inside of me. I let my pain make me forget. I let my pain replace the patience and forgiveness that we once had for one another and the pure belief that you meant what you did. But your words and actions said you knew it was a mistake, I just wouldn’t let myself hear it. Until it was too late. Until we became the strangers we promised we’d never be. I forget you used to write about me, maybe that’s why a piece of my heart will be forever intertwined with the words on your tongue.

I’m sorry. I am so sorry I let the darkness take over. I was the problem all along. I told you how much I fought loving you, it seems like it was all I knew to write for a while. But it seems like no matter how hard you tried I was never ready to stop fighting. For us. Against us. I think the fire burned too hot to ever find comfort in. But if I’m being honest the memory of what we called the future still lives in a house in the back of my mind. Sometimes I step inside and I can hear the laughter over the music. I can feel a warmth of happiness wash over me. It could’ve been real. But I always lock the door as I leave, keeping that happiness right where I found it. Because I’ll never be able to touch it again, not without thousands of pieces of glass shattering all around me. Not without hearts being ripped from chests. Not with any certainty that that happiness has a home outside of my mind.

If I could do it all again … I would’ve loved you sooner. And I would’ve stopped fighting against us. I would’ve given you what you needed without the fear living in my stomach. I would’ve slapped you that night. And then I would have kissed you. We would’ve been infinite.

Je t'aime à la lune et retour ours en peluche.Quand mes yeux ouverts dans la matinée tout ce qu'ils veulent, c'est de vous voir