≛Happy Shalala.≛

I asked the universe to teach me how to love, and it taught me the hard way. Due to its influence, my mind only thinks of him, my pen only writes for him, and my lips only speak of his name. Everything I feel with any tangibility, is for him. I have loved him with every ounce of love those before him did not show me, and have felt for him in the same way. Yet he does not know I feel this way about him. Everything I feel is felt for him from afar, because he has stolen my capability of speech. He looks at me and I forget who I am; as if my identity is lost. It is only on paper can he truly know of the words I can only write, but not say.

“sometimes it feels better not to talk. at all. about anything. to anyone.”

Maybe one day we’ll be sitting next to each other on the edge of the bed and you’ll tell me you love me. Maybe one day I’ll come surprise you on Sunday morning and your bedroom door will be locked. Maybe one day you’ll find my hair tie in your drawer and you’ll sleep with it around your wrist. Maybe one day I’ll meet a boy in a coffee shop and I’ll finally stop thinking about you. Maybe one day you’ll be waiting outside of my office with roses and you’ll tell me you miss me. Maybe one day we’ll pass each other in Grand Central and you’ll do a double take because my hair is darker now and you’ll wonder how I spent my last 6 months. Maybe one day I’ll find your soccer jersey in my closet and I won’t feel anything at all.