I’ve learned now that there is no getting over you. There’s living with your memory or being haunted by it. I’ve let years go by with you stuck to my back like a tumor I couldn’t rid. But that isn’t what you are. You’re a piece of me. A piece that I protected so dearly I lost sight of the reasons I protected it. I’ve learned that every single person I’ve ever loved I’ve written their names on pieces of me to remember forever. I wrote those names down and treated them as if they were punishment. But it isn’t and it never was. I’ve been lucky enough to know what love feels like in so many different ways. I’ve forgiven every heart break except for yours. I’m sorry I’m still working on it, but then again you don’t want my forgiveness anymore. You’ve found happiness in such a familiar place it actually took the breath out of my lungs when I saw it. I can’t deny that it felt like you punched me in the face, but I left you to find happiness else where, how can I be mad that you did ? You don’t read these words anymore. I don’t blame you for not. But I feel like you’ve always been a safe place to put feelings I don’t quit understand. I’m trying to find the writer you once loved, this time without you. She’s only ever come out for you to see, so I will learn to move on in the same place I fell in love, writing to a ghost that has never been on the same page as me. Because here those feelings can live forever without having to feel like their clawing at my ribs. Here I can release them to be finally free of.
My biggest regret will always be not hitting you that night. Not kissing you that night. Not fighting for you that night.
You said you’d always leave a light on for me … you must of forgot to pay the electric bill.
I confuse people. i have a happy personality and a sad soul. i'm bold but shy. i love deeply but sometimes i feel heartless. i'm healing and hurting at the same time. i'm dedicated to growth, but i self sabotage
“Were we ever meant to get it right?”
I’m still mesmerized by your writing, I hope I didn’t take that from you. Do you ever think about me ? I’m sorry it’s selfish to ask.
- Clementine Von Radics
It’s easy to see now, you were begging me to love you and I was teaching you to unlove me…
Fuck.
Tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway.
Sade Andria Zabala, WAR SONGS (via wnq-writers)
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
I wish I could see you one last time.
I wish I knew the last time was the last time.
It’ll never happen, but if it did,
I think my heart would stop beating. I think my lungs would refuse air.
And I think I’d die when you just look the other way without a care in the world.
“You are the only one, the only love that I have ever been able to write about.”
— Things I Never Got To Tell You, Part 21 (via venula)
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