“I’m home now,” said the wave to the shore.
“Yeah, but not for long,” the melancholy voice of the shore answered. “You’re leaving me again.”
“But I’ll come back, you know,” the wave retorted.
“But you’ll leave me again. Over and over. And I’m always the one left behind. Always.”
In times like this, I wish I could talk to you like how I used to. I miss your sweet voice and your lopsided smile. I miss our chats and five-hour phone calls. But now, the only way I could talk to you, and it’s just infinitesimally possible, is through an ouija board. Fuck this.
Oh, love eh? It’s pretty hard to define so most people get really confused about it. There’s lust, infatuation, attraction, attachment – you can go on and on and still think these words are synonymous to love. There’s pain, betrayal, abandonment, grief, heartbreak, and a lot of other negative feelings that you experience when you fall in love. That’s probably why it’s pretty hard to believe in it anymore.
But I believe in love, I really do. Just seeing my grandparents still walk along the street together and holding hands is enough proof that love exists.
Love is actually everywhere, if you only know where to look and your eyes are not too jaded to see it. Love is pretty common. It’s the happy ending that’s rare.
The moon is so bright and it shines on the on the leaves of a big mango tree by my window as if they were big stars hanging in front of me. I wonder if you’re looking at the sky tonight.
I want a late night adventure. I want someone to call me up and say, “I’m outside. Let’s go do something!” I want to go out late at night in my pj’s and my hair all tied up. Maybe drive around. Go to a park and just swing on the swings. Maybe sit in the grass and watch the stars or maybe go to a 24 hour food place and pig out. I just want a late night adventure with people I like to be around. No drama. Nothing but good vibes and good company.
I just woke up. For two nights since I told him that I was in love with someone else, he was constantly showing up in my dream. In those dreams, we were still together. He was telling me he loves me. Then I’d always wake up with a gasp. I guess, that’s really it. I’d never have him except on my dreams. I’d never be with him except in my sleep. And he’ll never say he loves me except on my deepest subconscious.