Being happy is a very personal thing—and it really has nothing to do with anyone else .
you know those friends who try to one-up you on everything you say… chill…. all i said was it’s my dad’s birthday…. no need to tell me about that time your dad took you to the bahamas to swim with dolphins while you jet-skied into the sunset
It’s like no one even knows me…
Loving him is not knowing whether or not to call him because you know you’re going to hear her voice on the other line. Loving him is telling yourself at 3 a.m to stop crying but the tears are flowing down your cheeks faster than the words he drowned you in a month earlier. Loving him is having your mom brush your hair out for you while you sit on the ground with bloodshot eyes asking why he never called you back. Loving him is letting random boys spit “I love you’s” down your throat just so you can feel a bit less dead inside. Loving him is keeping an extra sweatshirt in your locker so you can wear it when your hands start to shake, but nothing can stop the trembling. Loving him is nights full of flashbacks and pills that can’t really cure the pain. Loving him is wandering around a CVS at two in the morning and asking strangers why he never wanted you. Loving him is passing by him but having to hold back every word you’ve been dying to hit him with. Loving him is piling up on bandades because he isn’t there to tell you that everything is going to be alright. Loving him is listening to the same song he sang to you on repeat until you can hear his voice again. Loving him is seeing him in everyone but he’s never really there. Loving him is something that you can’t forget, simply because you never want to.
It’s 12 at midnight and I should be sleeping but all I can think about is how every atom of my soul felt that afternoon when you pressed your lips against mine. It was as if galaxies grew inside my chest and every broken piece in my soul was put together. And we kissed till our lips burned and we kissed till there was no breath left and we kissed till laughter oozed out of your heart and I remember I smiled. I smiled because you laughed and goddamn there’s nothing better than the taste of laughter. I remember feeling safe. Your hands were the bed and your chest was the pillow, you lips were my comfort and your heart was my home. Every time you wrapped your arms around me it felt like nothing could go wrong. It felt like there was a universe in my body instead of just an off beat heart and broken ribs . It felt like the sky was blue again. It felt like you were under my skin and for that moment I wasn’t rubbing myself to stop the chills from rising. Oh that day baby you kissed me so deep I forgot whose air I was breathing. And for a moment not being able to breathe felt right. I touched you. My naked heart was so close to your naked heart that I could feel it dancing towards me. Oh you hugged me so tight and you whispered in my ears in that voice of yours that could make flowers grow. You whispered that you loved me and you apologised for everytime you fucked up. And you hugged me tighter and we spooned and I fit into you so perfectly and you said you’d never leave. And I believed you. For once it felt like you were gonna stay. So I gave up the idea of being without you.
But fucking hell you left. And maybe a part of me knew but it still hurt you know?
So I’m guessing things change, feelings fade and people move on. What once meant the world turns into a little speck of dirt. And now it’s 12 at midnight and you’re sleeping and I’m lying awake thinking about you. Or what we could have been.