“It’s been a while now and I still miss the way he said my name. I didn’t know my bones could ache for so long. They say there’s beauty in sadness, but I don’t think so — at least not like this — when it’s 3 am and over the counter melatonin is the only thing that helps me sleep. I found his t-shirt the other day and it still smells like him and the summer we spent telling each other we’d be forever. I didn’t really think about how forever could end. He used to call me beautiful and look at me with eyes that meant it. Now I just don’t know how I’m supposed to hear that word from anyone else. I’m somewhere caught between moving on and holding on and not knowing which I can handle most. I feel messy and uneasy and I don’t understand how one person can destroy an empire inside me, just by walking away. His lips tasted like air after rain and these days all I do is think about the way they felt between my thighs. But still — my pillow isn’t him, and the song on the radio isn’t ours. I get coffee from a boy at the café every morning, but we can’t talk for hours. Where do I go when a lover and a friend becomes a memory and a dead end? He waited until the day after to wish me a happy birthday and told me he misses me too before he stopped responding to my messages. He’s teaching me that real ghosts have heart beats and spend their nights in another girl’s bed.”
— 2:53 am (via transcendentalbrilliance)
