βi woke up to find our last conversation playing on a loop
i can’t sleep without hearing your voice
without wishing to relive that day just to change what happened
without missing what we had
without missing you
as i finally start to drift off to sleep again
i tell myself
that even if we are nothing now
it was an honor
a privilege
to have meant something
anything
to you at one point.β
βWhen I miss him, I tend to forget everything he did to hurt me. I forget the sleepless nights and the way he made my chest fill with an indescribable pain.
I try to remember that when I miss him. I try and it all comes back, and I’m hit with a tsunami wave containing almost a year of pain.
I still miss him.β
β…and she was terrified of being honest with herself, because that meant she would have to face what her real desires were:
to be creative
to make art
to throw caution to the wind and damn all her practical plans
to change her focus to doing what she loved, which was writing and painting and creating and embracing all the off-color parts she’d worked so hard to blend away.β