You remember giving them a list of reasons for why it would not work, and how they should find someone else. You remember giving them the reasons why they should just walk away. But they did not go anywhere, they told you that they don’t want anyone else and they refused to let go.
Every time I see you, I still want to kiss you hello.
I know it’s scary, but it is in fact perfectly achievable. Think of me as your shepherdess leading you to the land of Milk and Honey, to The Field of Dreams. Heed my words, dream-weavers, and you’ll be on the fast-track to makin’ it with hot, faceless, one-night-stand discards like there’s no tomorrow.
Just because you weren’t owed anything doesn’t mean there weren’t expectations.
Is seeing the face you used to admire, the body you used to hold and be held by, and the eyes that used to peer into your soul going to trip you right back into their spell?
Familiarity’s the culprit. We know each other inside and out, the bad and the ugly and the terrible — and this familiarity is already too much for our hearts to handle most of the time.
I’ll remember you like a good old Beatles song, serene and classic. Simple yet enlightening. Real and meaningful. Faded but beautiful.
The agony isn’t from the relationship; it’s from the journey after the relationship. The process of returning to yourself, whoever that may be at the moment. The path of rediscovering life as you used to know it.
I remember the first person I kissed after you. It was wrong, because I knew I didn’t kiss him for myself. I kissed him because I was desperate to rebound and to override the memory of you in my mind. And he didn’t help.
Letting you go was one of the scariest things I had to do. But I think what was even more frightening was the complacency I began to feel in this dark place I was stuck in with you.