How do I tell you to choose me when you’re so used to living your life in your own terms? I wouldn’t have the heart to ask you to choose because I want you to feel free even when you’re with me. Especially when you’re with me.
I saw nothing but I felt everything.
Failure is not an option, they say. I agree it’s not an option because it’s part of this natural progression that we call “life”.
You remembered him like it was serenity. You stop in your tracks, gaze at the sky, smiling as you begin to close your eyes; then you breathe — like it was your first.
I wish you can hear my thoughts, they never lie. I’m running out of lines — let the rest be unspoken; I’m ready to leave without them.
As much as you don’t want to admit it, you need a break — and it’s one of the best decisions you’ll ever do.
You held out your hand,
said to take it
as we approach the sand.
Instead of going out on dates that I know will end up nowhere and settle for the temporary, I invested on the constant.
“Everything you write is sad. Why?”
I used to let the sadness rule me, ride the sensation of emptiness, invite self-doubt to keep me company; they kept me busy as I learned to pay attention to me.