Find Your Way To Neverland

Simple style sweatshirts.

Will you remember me when we part, or will I become a girl you knew, a spec in your universe.

Maybe you can afford to wait. Maybe for you there’s a tomorrow. Maybe for you there’s one thousand tomorrows, or three thousand, or ten, so much time you can bathe in it, roll around it, let it slide like coins through you fingers. So much time you can waste it. But for some of us there’s only today. And the truth is, you never really know.

I will love you, despite all of your flaws, your insecurities, your ugly days and your weaknesses. I will love you, even more on the days that you forget your worth, and how special you are. I will love you, until I’m just a distant memory. Until you can no longer remember the first time we started talking or how you became so much to me. I will love you, the whole you, inside and outside. I will love you, strong enough to be the like the air that will remind you to “breathe and take it easy”, loyal enough to be like the waves who constantly kisses the shore even if it always goes back to the ocean, and hard enough to be like the mirror who will remind you that I am always here, to tell you how good and beautiful you are even on the days where you think you aren’t, even if sometimes, you no longer have the will to believe in yourself. I will love you, even if it’s the hardest thing to do. I will love you, even if it hurts. Especially when it hurts. I will love you, even if one day you decided to run away, even if one day you’ll realize you no longer want to stay. I will wait for you, even if it takes years for you to come back. And when you finally arrive on my doorstep, I will close the door and lock it, and I will let you know that after all this time, you always have the keys.

She doesn’t like staying up late at night just talking to you, she wants you to come over and feel your breath against her neck at 3 am. She doesn’t like flowers and chocolates, she wants letters and words. She doesn’t like faking, show her the real you. She doesn’t like perfection, flaunt her your flaws. She doesn’t like things that are complicated, tell her everything as what it is. Maybe, you wouldn’t like the way she wants it to be. She knows what she’s doing and she won’t fail you. She is a strong girl, an independent. She has been a prisoner of a nightmare and now, she’s finally awake. She wants to own you, not to be owned by you. One thing is guaranteed, let her hold your hand and you wouldn’t be alone again. She’s a keeper. She will keep you forever if you truly deserve her.

but she’s somewhere else now, and your heart is a cavern for it. maybe you should have told her before she left. maybe in those moments when your throat closed up looking at her laugh. when your hands shook watching her dance around her room, her bare feet against the tiles of her floor. when your heart danced too. when she called you, drunk, and said she liked you. when you went to form the words back but got stuck halfway, asking if she made it back home safe. how the two of you took the town together, how the little wrinkle of her brow showed up when she was discussing something serious, how she took up the whole room when she was passionate. the warm heat of her protective anger. the fire in her that came with the love of her friends. if you could have written her the right words would she have stayed. if all of those nights had ended in you buckling and kissing her, would she have just left earlier. could you have had her.

I’m so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything.

“I guess it’s true, then. Love is blind,” he sighed, sadness coating his rough voice, softening it. She stirred in her seat, staring back at him through wide eyes, lashes not thick enough to hold back the tears, warming her hands on a cup of tea. Still, her fingers remained stone-cold. “Love is not blind,” she replied, clearing her throat, “it’s worse, sometimes. It doesn’t stop you from noticing someone’s flaws. But sometimes you are so in love with the idea of someone that you simply turn away from their mistakes. You ignore the way they hurt you because you don’t want to believe they can cut you open and smile at you while you bleed. It’s easier to keep your eyes closed, I think. Love isn’t blind. But it can make you ignorant.”

Just because you miss someone, it doesn’t mean you should go back to them. Sometimes you have to just keep missing them until you wake up one morning and realise that you don’t anymore.

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth.