“

They’ll kiss the most sensitive spot on your neck, and whisper ever so gently into your eyes, “I love you, come back to me” and make your knees go weak.

“

I left behind a life that I cherished and that I loved in hopes to find something better, in hopes to find something more.

“

Don’t ask me to come back now.
As if silence didn’t consume us.

“

all of the forgotten bruises and pain that I brushed beneath the rug of time’s passage when I left years back crawls out like a slithering monster and you try to kick them back under there, but it still peeks out a lot.

“

Becoming incredibly jealous of anyone who is going there on vacation, because you wish so badly that you could be going (and part of you selfishly believes that they’ll never appreciate it enough, or in the right way).

“

I know what it’s like to leave, come back, and have your body betray your loathing of the present. When presented with a map, your eyes dart to where you’d rather be. Your feet point in the direction you’d rather be walking. Your mouth emits sentences tinged with nostalgia.