My Box of Things

I wouldn't say I miss you, but I like to think that in another universe, somewhere, we figured it out. We finally learned how to love each other without breaking ourselves. We're out there, somewhere, drinking tea, laughing from our bellies. We are out there, happy. Together.

“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.”

“I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am. I am a gunshot, muffled by the city blocks. I am a broken window during a November night. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from grace with nothing but a dull thud, While apologising for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, I belong to all the February 29ths in the leap years that didn’t happen. I can easily become all that’s wrong with the world. But if you stay a little longer, I swear I can make it up to you”

“I am both happy and sad at the same time, and I’m still trying to figure out how that could be.”