A Word From Star

Love lasts about seven years. That’s how long it takes for the cells of the body to totally replace themselves.

Is this how it’s supposed to be? A bunch of 20 something year olds searching for something to make them feel alive? Or maybe we are just searching for reasons to stay alive… It all feels the same now. I’m not even 25, and I feel like I have enough anxiety for an entire town, so much depression that they could call what I feel the Great Depression, and a heart so broken, Humpty Dumpty is starting to look pretty put together. But I think I’m supposed to keep going. There’s something about chasing that sunset before the ball of flaming orange sets below the ocean’s horizon, conquering a mountain top, and the glitter of the stars at night that makes me not give up, but sometimes it’s just not enough.

Always remember who was there for you when you were at your lowest.

I want your Monday morning, exhausted eyes, slow, quiet voice, “Five more minutes baby girl.” I want your Tuesday afternoon, coffee in Starbucks, serious off, laughter on, “Just hold me, it’s been a hard day.” I want your Wednesday evening, messy hair, picking skin around your nails, neck cracking, eyes sore, “This work never stops.” I want your Thursday night, drinks for two, muscles loose, trainers, sweats, “Just us two.” I want your finally it’s Friday, beautiful smile, sigh of relief, “C'mon babe, let’s stay up late.” I want your Saturday morning, your ‘greys Anatomy’ marathon, kissing under the blanket, “I love you more.” I want your Sunday afternoon, up at two in the afternoon, orange juice and bagels, “Let’s stay in bed all day.” I want your ordinary, and your stressed, your rested, your release, I want your bad day and terrible nights, I want you drunk in my arms, forgetting where you are but never my name. I want your productive and your lazy, I want you everyday, in every way for the rest of my life.

Distance doesn’t separate people… Silence does.