I Remembered The Other Day I Was Given An Opportunity To Return To The Town We Met. Your Town. I Didn’t

I liked the way you let me break my own heart. I think I always knew I was safe to let you see that side of me. To see the broke down girl in the corner crying on her birthday. Because you’d always be there. But I know now that doesn’t always mean you’ll be in my life. We loved in the world of writers, we wrote each other into our stories and left them for the world to see. I will never be able to unravel you from those words, and why would I want to? In those stories lives a love so strong that it blew up so many lives. A love filled with sacrifice and two people finding their way back to each other over and over again. In those stories lives a love worth remembering. I used to compare us to the great love on the big screen, I think I was looking at the wrong ones. We found each other and burned too brightly this time around. But something in me can’t believe we won’t meet again and next time, we’ll get it right.

Because no matter how many goodbyes we’ve had, none have felt like forever.

“Timing is a hell of a thing. In the end, that’s what it all comes down to. The potency of an attraction or the purity of a connection mean very little if you’re on separate journeys. You and I were a perfect fit, we were, there was just too much distance between us to see it.”

- a love letter to whiskey

Every once in a while, I break my own heart to let the memory of you wash over me for just a few moments. The feeling of being loved by you was the most amazing and terrifying feeling in the world and for some reason, I can never let it go.

I let myself forget you, but never long enough for it to stick. Your smell. Your lips. The look on your face or the sound of your tired voice on the phone. It’s never too far from my mind, no matter how many times I’ve tried.

No matter time or distance, I can’t write without the thought of you. Reliving the moments of us are the only way for the words to make any sense. I knew you took a piece of me when you left, I guess I never realized it was the part of me that wanted to be a writer. The part of me that could feel my soul spilling out so effortlessly into words to express the feelings I didnt even quite understand. When I live inside of those memories I could make anyone fall in love with a version of you that I write out in hopes to expel these feelings that never seem to go away forever. But when I lock those memories up the words are gone. I wrote so goddamn much about you I don’t think I know how to write about anything else

Couple years flashin' by

And I'm doin' okay

In the back of my mind

All I hear is your name

I bet you're happy and that's fine

But I regret just one thing

I never got to change your mind

Halsey

A beautiful boy once told me saying love you is just habit, to say I love you is to mean it, and I’ve never forgotten that …

i can only feel a thing in the summer, there's nothing left come winter.

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.

You were the first and last person to hold my heart with all of its pieces.

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