and there came my muse,

“November always gives back my mind all the things I have done within a year. A month that makes me feel old and young at the same moment. November makes me remember the time when my heart started beating.”

“And I’ll always wonder about what’s swirling in your mind—what’s blooming in your heart, but I’ll always be terrified of not being able to find my name written inside any of them.”

“I may want to forget you, but my heart will always find its way to remember you.”

““I am sorry but…” she said. “Could you please stop making people feel like it was their fault why you fall out of love with them. Stop putting the blame on their shoulders. Causing their knees to bend and fall to the ground.” she took a deep breath to calm herself. She tried to say it in a kind way. Knowing that she’s trying so hard—enough not to burst into tears. She’s mad and she’s still trying to keep it down. “Please stop trying to turn a soft beautiful heart into a cold colorless hole. Because it was never easy to bring it back.””