Love isn’t supposed to hurt, not like this anyway. He isn’t a variable of pain; no, he is a constant assembly line of sorrow.
There’s some quote about leaving while the party is still running, before the dance ends. Defy that fallacy, please for me. Let the party keep running, let the dance ensue.
I miss the incongruity you bring, the excitement that comes on city nights with you. I miss the shenanigans, the escapades, the youthful bliss.
That is the beauty of second chances. Life is an infinite sum of restarts. Failure is not a dead road, failure is a disguised beginning.
Be your own inciting incident, be that girl Disney never writes about, that society never expects. Be the girl who provokes her own legends.
I want the certainty of my phone ringing, that anticipation of another human voice. I want the urgency of finding my phone and hastily saying hello.
This is our game. It’s mutually understood, there are no repercussions.
I’m re-reading Dickens, for the 4th time because I don’t know how else to study for this exam.
Fitzgerald. You were reading a Fitzgerald when I first noticed you. It was late September on a Friday, when my schedule was a variable and commute times were off balance.