if you're lucky, and I mean real lucky, you'll find a person who will make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else. Whether you're 17, or 35, or 62, someone will come along and completely change your life. let them. let them in. let them see the worst sides of you, when you're so angry you can't see straight. or when you're falling apart at 3 am because everything came crashing down at once. Let them see you happy, passionate, and driven. They'll do the same. And eventually, you'll be completely head over heels with this person to the point where theyre the first person you want to tell good news to. or bad news. it doesnt matter if they're 5 minutes down the street, or 5 hours from your hometown. You won't be able to keep yourself from falling for him. let yourself. tell him your biggest dreams and deepest fears. tell him why you flinch everytime someone comes near you. watch him as he lets you in, as he confides in you. listen yo him as he goes on about his passions and watch his eyes light up as he does so. it doesnt matter if you met him in high school or if you met him on some beach in North Carolina. Don't listen to your friends when they tell you its just a fling. maybe he won't tell you he's in love with you right away, but his eyes will scream it when he's looking at you as you speak about the smallest things. go out with him on saturday nights and sleep in with him sunday mornings. maybe he won't tell you he's in love with you, but maybe he doesn't need to
she won't be easy to love. she will get angry, and sad, and she'll constantly feel like you don't love her. But you will love her. You'll love that she has 6 different boxes of cereal opened in the cabinet, and that her clothes never quite match. You won't mind when she wakes you up just to double check that you still want her, and you'll kiss her and tell her to stop worrying. She will keep worrying. She will lay awake and hope to God that you don't leave because she is going to think that you find it weird that she has 6 different boxes of cereal opened, and that her clothes never quite match. But you will love her. You will spend months convincing her that you do, but eventually, you will stop trying. She has been through this before, she knows whats coming. You will love her, until you don't.
don't date an overthinker. she'll spend days analyzing your facial expressions when you speak and nights deciphering what the period placement in your text meant. She'll agonize for hours over why you didn't say hello to her at breakfast, and start to create unrealistic scenarios in her head that you decided that you no longer like her. Don't date her because she'll suffocate you with her care. She'll always ask if you're okay, and constantly say she loves you just to hear you say it back to her. And she'll cry, oh lord, she'll cry. She'll cry over the way you looked at that girl, or the way your eyes stopped lighting up at the sound of her name. She'll cry when you start kissing her like its your job and touching her like its a habit. She'll even overthink the fact that maybe shes just overthinking. That you do still love her, that all these worries might just be in her head. And so when you do leave, she'll still wake up six months from now replaying the moments in her head like a broken record "where did i go wrong?" or "what did i do this time?". Do not date an overthinker unless you plan on marrying her.
it was his eyes i noticed first. the ones he hated, the ones he called boring and brown. he wanted any other color, any other pair of eyes except his own. but i loved them. i could spend hours just swimming in their depths. they lit up when he talked about his passions. they danced when he laughed. and just the same, they dulled and blurred and were never the same once i left
After he broke my heart, I began writing about him. I wrote and wrote and described him as a hurricane, a drug, my universe. Now that i've moved on, I don't see him in that way anymore. He wasn't anything above ordinary, he was just a boy. A boy who didn't want to be with me and thats that.
"i'm over you", i repeated now staring into the darkness. "But the thing is, i still stay up late to talk to you. I still see galaxies in your eyes, and blinding lights when you smile. I crave the looks you now give her. I still love the way you smile when youre embarrassed, and God do I miss your kisses staining my skin. I'm over you, but maybe, I've somehow learned to lie more than you ever did
oh god, we were so in love. we use to think about each other day and night. i talked about you like you had painted the night sky and you talked about me like i was the most beautiful thing in the universe. we would constantly be rushing through everything just to see or talk to each other. and if we couldnt, then its like we were suffocating without one another. but little did i know when i struggled to breathe, you were getting your oxygen from her, while i was left breathless
he looked at what she had become, or rather, what he had made her become. Her eyes were sunken. The shine her pretty brown eyes once had was nowhere to be seen. He remembered all the times they had spent together, happy. He remembered how much she did for him and in return, he went off and kissed another girl. he felt his heart sink as he finally came to the realization that she was the one who got away.
it's not that they didn't care about each other. They did but he was held back by his responsibilities and would rather drown himself in alcohol than the depths of her eyes. It's not that they didn't want to make it work. They did but she had this fear of not being enough and couldn't accept the fact that someone might actually love her back. You see, they cared about one another, but were too oblivious to realize it. And they could have loved each other. God, they could have loved each other.
you know whats screwed up? that you can be without someone for 3 months, six months, a year, and have mastered not thinking about them, but no matter how much time passes, there will always be that moment when you see a photo of them, catch a little scent of their cologne in the middle of a crowded street and suddenly, you're plagued with a rapidly sinking stomach and the relentless question: " what did i do wrong?"