This house reminds me of you. I miss your laugh. Your smile. The way you used to touch me.
Writer, phone-a-holic, instagrammer, iced coffee addict (okay, mostly that last one).
I won’t come back when my feelings are all gone so we can hang out.
How did it happen? How is it possible that two strangers could have so much in common?
I wasn’t the one chasing you. I wasn’t the one who wanted you. I barely remembered your face, your name.
You will always be my teenage love.
I was trying to not pay attention to the actual fact that I wasn’t properly living, I was surviving. For most of my life, I was just trying to get to the end of the day, in a decent way.
The moment I figured out I was in love with you, was the moment I realized I was finally stopping. No more running, no more excuses.
Have you ever been the “almost” one?