Sometimes it takes us months to understand, sometimes years. The universe has a funny way of pushing us in the right direction, even if we can’t see it at the time. I hope one day I can look at you and forgive you for not being what you wanted all these years ago - and accept that you weren’t what I needed. It’ll come back to you, the breeze that makes the heat bearable. Frantic, desperate, elated, fighting to stay afloat. Ice cream on our tongues - nothing’s ever tasted sweeter. Warmed up skin burning through the night, a fever dream. One eye open, one eye closed, reminiscing about what was and about what could have been. Waking up in the middle of the night with the moon lighting up my room, the urge to see the world building in my bones. In case you just want to come home / n.j. For now I’ll leave a window open, just in case you change your mind. I know one day I’ll have to let it all go, let you go, but for now the way I see the world is still intertwined with the way I know you. Even if loneliness made this decision for you. If you ever miss the feeling of coming home, the familiarity which feels like a soft blanket to fall asleep beneath, the kind of trust that only blooms between two people once they’ve seen each other’s scars, you can return to me. We were something, don’t you think so? / n.j. Whether it takes me a month, a year, or ten years. Who knows? Do you ever look out at the city and feel the urge to call me? Do you ever wonder what could’ve been if we’d made different decisions, if we’d started crossing lines instead of drawing them? In the end the greatest things are those which leave us wondering. But now that I’m sitting here alone, overdramatic laughter from the TV the only sound I’ve heard in a while, I’m imagining myself sprawled on your hunter green sofa, book in hands, yours tangled in my hair. We were something, but never enough to tell our parents about. Hell, I’m certain both of us knew we wouldn’t last. We knew we wouldn’t change the world together.
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