A few weeks ago, the part of me that hoped one day I would be able to meet you died.
For years, I was there for every relapse, every gut wrenching piece of news. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have done to try and protect you.
We may never know why these people weren’t meant to stay in our lives, but we do know that it broke our hearts. We know that we will always have the question, “What if?”
The little infinities that you allow yourself to have make you who you are, and every heartbreak is another step closer to the next great thing coming your way.
Yes, we broke each other’s hearts, but I think we can both agree that we would do it all over again if we had the chance.
I’ll tell her about how when we ended, it broke me into a million little pieces. How I thought I would never be able to recover.
Do you ever think God fights for two souls to be together? Because I’m starting to believe that.
We just met, but something feels so right about you.
It’s the constant doctor visits. Staring at all those bright lights. Noticing how everything is pale, just like your skin.
I’m in love with any place that makes me feel alive. I’m in love the idea that I have so much left to experience.