everticchio
my windows are open and im falling in love all over again because rain makes the most beautiful sound.
Making people you hate feel uncomfortable is satisfying to no end.
We have made plans to learn and play a game of marbles.
Spent several hours downtown. Getting lost, freezing fingers, finding our way, discovering the hot chocolate, burning tongues, standing so close together waiting to walk across the street that we almost missed our chance because we were lost in each others eyes and in each others warmth. We might not have done much during this time, but when we kissed, my smile never left and the city grew more vibrant and more stunning with each passing moment. Now it's all I can think about.
It was a mutual break up.
He told me he loved me.
He told me he cheated on me.
I told him I'm not ready to be loved.
I told him his cheating didn't anger me.
This is not how a relationship should go.
It was a mutual break up.
that one morning when i wake up to the birds outside my window and the warmth of the sun on my cheeks and the soft push of the breeze in my hair
that one moment when i feel things might actually be good
a new season, a new day, a new beginning, a new me
but thats never the case
I have a memory. Simple and beautiful. Being a young girl. Sitting in the family room that has now been replaced and renewed. Just wanting to finish a project. Just wanting to see the finished product of my creative abilities. But I was too young to use the iron.
He's a mystery to me.
And I'm scared I will never get the chance to figure him out.
I wish someone had warned me, had told me that my heart was going to be broken.
I wish someone had let me know, that this was not going to end well.
But no one did. No one could. Because I kept it a secret. No one knew. No one could warn me.
But maybe, that was what I actually needed the warning for. It could have worked out. My heart could still be intact right now, if I had shared the news.
But I didn't. And now I'm trying to figure out, which warning would have served me better.
Not to be with him.
Tell someone.
there is always evidence for those you want to believe.
and i want to believe he loves me.
but is this evidence only in my imagination?
or does he see the evidence that i love him too?
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