a piece of sun 🦢 🌷 ✉️ 🍃 ☁️

Nobody tells you how moving on from someone you considered your safe place is hard, nobody tells you you’ll keep wondering about them for the rest of your life

you have made such an impact on me that my words are still, always, full of you ; i can't write if you are not the muse, you gave me the gift of love and took it back from me and that is a feeling i'll spend the rest of my life writing about

loving you came to me as naturally as breathing, it always felt as if we knew each other in a past life, as if we were always meant to meet - i sometimes wish we were meant to have more time together, but the little time we had is more than anything i ever had and will ever have

time is passing, death is coming, and for what it's worth i'll spend my whole life wishing it would've been you and no one else

out of everything you taught me, the one thing that stuck with me is this : to be in love with each other was never enough. we had love, and somehow i thought having that was all we needed to make us work but i was so, so far from the truth. it takes more than love to keep two people like us together.

i gave up on love a long time ago. i gave up when all of my love ended up in all the wrong hands, over and over again, and when it turned me into someone i hated. someone heartless, cold and scarred, when i once felt warm like the sun to everyone who was lucky enough to touch me.

i need to remind myself that this is it — this is my life, and it is the only one i have and will ever have. i can't postpone it. i can't wait to live it. this is it, right now, the present. i am alive and breathing and i can't keep forgetting that i only have one shot at making the most of it.

Today I looked back at how my life used to be, how I had you and thought I always would. Was I naïve to think that nothing could ever change us, that we were infinite in a world where everything's temporary? Even the greatest lovers die, even us.

i'm a memory keeper, i'm the kind of girl who's got a hard time letting go of her past and who deals with nostalgia and melancholy on a daily basis

i want to be more, so much more, but i don’t know how, and i don’t know how to stop being so frozen by fear and doubts and the future

I don’t know who I am, I’m a lost soul wandering the earth without knowing where to go, what to do. I often ask myself what my purpose is and I never find an answer, and so I wonder if I have any purpose at all, or was I just put in this living hell to question my existence all the time? Will I die having only experienced doubt, overthinking, fear, hate and tears?

My issue with love is that I can’t seem to measure it... I love too much, or not enough. I never found the in-between and I fear I never will. I’m bound to either drown in the sea of my love or die in the lack of it.

i'm always grieving, grieving, grieving. i'm grieving what we could've been, i'm grieving every version of me who died with the decisions i made, i'm grieving books i never read and music i'll never listen and every little thing that makes life not so unbearable