There's beauty in simplicity :)

That time you confused a lesson for a soulmate.

I remember the first time you held my hand. I don’t know if it was because of the cold or the fact I loved you but fuck, I felt the world rush through my veins.

i think what makes breakups really sad is that you spend all this time opening up, letting the other person in and they do the same thing. you spend all this time intertwining. you learn what makes them smile, and how they like their tea and their favourite childhood memories. you share and you remember and then suddenly, you’re meant to retreat and forget. you know what makes someone sad, and you’re meant to pretend that you don’t; you’re meant to go back to being everyone else and believing the smile they plaster on their face. you know a way to help and you have to stand back. and i guess what i’m wondering is - do we stop knowing these things, or do we just get better at pretending? does letting go ever come to feel like standing still, like peace?

Please don’t tell her the same things you used to tell me. I hope I was at least that special to you.

When you lose someone who is your entire universe, it hits you. All the chances you didn’t take, all the things you didn’t say. Because the truth is that you think you have forever, but you don’t. You never do.

A phone holds a thousand memories. Not just in the hundreds of pictures that could tell my story, but in my music, in the text messages and the ones I never sent, in my voice memos, in the games I play to pass the time away secretly waiting to hear from you, in the way my ear presses against the glass just to hear your voice, in the way my lips teased the phone talking to you and whispering to you late at night and yelling at you because really I just missed you so fucking much and I’m sorry for crying while there wasn’t anything you could do… but most of all, in all the silence of our slightly opened lips desperately begging it to just say how we really feel for each other. A phone remembers the silence it had to endure between people.

It’s funny how when somebody leaves you, you’ll turn to anything that’ll hurt as much as they did. Maybe you’ll pick a new brand of gin or drink a shot of whiskey every time you think about him. You’ll tell yourself that it’s because you want to forget his name, but you know that he’ll spin in circles around your head the same way the room is spinning around your vision. Maybe you’ll try to smoke him out of your lungs. Maybe you’ll find your nails turning yellow but you’ll still inhale with every breath because you’d rather taint your blood than think about the fact that he still lives under your skin like a cloud of smoke. Maybe you’ll kiss a lot of strangers whose names you don’t know because you’ll tell yourself that you can’t taste the past in someone new- but you still do. You still feel him with every lips you touch and God, do you wish you weren’t kissing anyone but the one person you’re not supposed to think about. Maybe you’ll tell your best friend that the pain is gone. Maybe you’ll tell them that you don’t even think about it anymore, honestly. Funny because you know you still listen to his voicemails on repeat like a song stuck in your head. Funny because you know your best friend knows it too. Funny because you won’t admit it to yourself, but you’ll do anything to a feel a pain worse than him leaving. You’ll look for anything that’ll push that boundary, anything to remind you of him even if it’s just a reminder of the way he left you. Funny because you tell yourself you’re doing it because you’re trying to get over him, but really you’re only doing it to try to forget that he ever left.