The Love Letter I Will Never Send You: Vol2

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The distance between two people can be measured in laughter, or glances, miles, minutes, or hours.

A moment can seem like an eternity.

One single mile can seem like thousands.

You can be touching someone and still feel like there are worlds between you.

There can be actual worlds between you and feel like you’re right next to each other.

Every day, we are given eighty-six thousand and four hundred seconds.

That’s eighty-six thousand and four hundred opportunities for you to cross my mind.

To make me smile.

My heart beats in rapid pace to match my thoughts.

I often wonder what it would be like, if time would grant us the opportunity to join forces.

We spend our whole lives walking among the earth, wandering aimlessly.

Without rhyme, reason or cause.

We exist within our own bubbles. Searching for someone to lay our heads next to at night.

Someone to experience the journey with. To enrich the memories we create day in and day out.

Life works in ways one cannot comprehend.

Why do things happen the way they do? Why bring two people together who will inevitably never be able to make sense of the mess they’re in?

People cross paths, I believe for a reason.

Weather we can decode the reason or not.

I take something away from every person I’ve met. And leave a piece of my heart with them.

My chest is filled with cracks, and holes from the missing pieces that now live somewhere else.

Addresses unknown.

Half-heartedly I try to fill the gaps in with new memories, new people.

They just create new voids to fill.

To love someone, is to put yourself in the line of fire.

I always know when the flame is going to burn me.

I know from the very beginning. I can always tell.

But I’m like Icarus, flying too close to the sun.

I love the way the warmth feels on my skin. I’ll happily suffer the fallout to endure the short-term ecstasy.

Even when something is heart wrenchingly painful; keeping me up at night.

I’ll keep going back.

I’m a masochist for the tears that burn my cheeks.

I spend my days so numb to things, that the pain is at least something.

My heart throbbing.

Each beat screaming out for me to stop.

Stop doing this. Stop hoping. Stop dreaming.

I try to open my eyes open but they’re clenched so tight behind their rose-colored glasses.

Breathe in.

Exhale.

I can hear my blood rushing through my veins at hyper speed.

Singing out in excitement.

Every day, we are given eighty-six thousand and four hundred seconds.

And I would spend every one, fighting my way back to you.