when i was a child, my family would drive down the gravel road to the greenhouse at the start of every summer. stepping inside the tent was like stumbling upon my own narnia, where it’s always june instead of perpetually winter. the perfume of so many flowers mingled together in the humid air. puddles on the floor reflected back the rainbow of blooms. bugs flitted from plant to plant. the atmosphere made it easy to pretend that i was the goddess demeter and the growing beauty all around me was my own handiwork.
my father would tell my brother and i that we could each pick one plant to bring home. my brother always chose something spiky and blossom-less, such as a serrated-edged, deep purple persian shield or a dark succulent. time after time, i was drawn to the romantic array of cherry, fuchsia, punch-pink, and candy cane geraniums. i always bought one and my brother always got a plant as sharp as his personality. some things are as predictable as the sunrise, and our greenhouse habits are no exception.
when my brother and i placed our special flowers on the counter beside my dad’s box of purchases, the worker would adjust her sin sifter and let us pick out a free marigold. there was a box of fiery blooms in the windowsill, straining for the sun. my brother would claim an orange one and i would choose yellow, and we would hold them in our laps on the ride home and plant them side by side in the yard.
my brother doesn’t care for flowers anymore. our family goes to the greenhouse without him, and i’m allowed as many plants as i would like. the woman behind the counter no longer offers me a marigold.
if we went early enough in the summer, there would be a cage around the back of the greenhouse where they kept easter bunnies. i cupped them in my hands one by one, trembling pompoms with a heartbeat, watching their bubblegum noses twitch and their fur flit around in the breeze. i begged my parents for one — promised that i would make its life heaven on earth, read every book about taking care of rabbits that i could get my hands on — but they never agreed. it’s too much responsibility for you, they said. the cats wouldn’t like them. bunnies are mean, anyway. so i never got a rabbit, and at some point, they got rid of the cages and i never held another easter bunny.
a year or two ago, i went on a walk one dusty, golden evening, and my feet led me down the gravel road to the greenhouse. i paused by the sign announcing the valley’s favorite greenhouse and stared out across the soy fields. birds rustled and sang from the crops and danced duets in the pale sky. the sun-warmed rocks beneath my bare, callused feet became too intense as i stood there, absorbing a picturesque summer sunset in the country, so i scooted off into the grass beside the road. wild strawberries poked up around my toes. a gemstone beetle crawled across a daisy as it continued its steady journey back home.
i have only known creekside junes and julys, spent hunting water snakes on slippery rocks, staining my lips and fingertips with blackberries, biking by myself through corn fields, burning marshmallows in the backyard while watching a shooting star overhead. the ache of every perfect summer i will never experience is eating me alive.
i’ve finally finished writing my d.c. travel diary! enjoy, and read part one here if you haven’t already.
« day two »
one of the only things i hate about traveling is that i never sleep well. i always wake up ridiculously early and just wait in the dark until i decide it’s late enough to start moving around (aka 5 a.m.).
my mum made us pack up all our stuff first thing in the morning. we stuffed our bags into the car and went to get breakfast in the hotel’s dining room. i ended up burning my already hurt taste buds on (very) hot chocolate.
bethany and i texted each other while we ate, which was dumb, because we were sitting across from each other. my messages were along the lines of “wish you were here! this trip would be so much more fun if you were with us!” we’re stupid, i think.
we hadn’t picked what we were going to do that day, so we decided over breakfast: the eastern market. mum drove us into the city (we only got lost a few times) and we started walking in the direction of the bazaar.
the capitol building was on our way. being the tourists that we are, we stopped to take pictures by the capitol’s statues and reflecting pool.
bethany was vlogging some of our adventure. unfortunately, the only parts she got were of me making really awful weed and homeschooler jokes. :’)
some of the trees along the sidewalk had words and doodles scratched into the bark.
is it the illuminati or bill cipher? we’ll never know.
ironically found on a trashcan.
bethany insisted that we pop into one of d.c.’s many starbucks. it had this lovely mural on the wall, so i’m glad we went in. bethany got some fancy cold caramel drink and she let izzy and i taste it. it was the first time i’d ever had starbucks coffee. it was kind of weird and made my throat hurt, but i guess it was alright.
i wanted to take pictures of the pigeons, but bethany was in a modeling mood.
if i had a shop, i would definitely put up lights like these.
we started daydreaming while we meandered down the streets, gazing at the colorful ivy-covered houses squished side by side. we imagined we’d live in one together, the three of us, maybe with a cute puppy. bethany would pursue a career in makeup at the mall, i would become some kind of sad freelance artist, and i guess izzy would just eat all our food. it sounds nice, you know — falling asleep to the sounds of the city beside my best friends.
we made a friend. :)
this gorgeous mural is next to the eastern market. it’s odd, but i like it.
i’m convinced that my friends only keep me around to take pictures for their instagrams.
bubbles always make me think of rutvi’s about to burst poem. you should definitely read it. :)
after a lot of walking, we finally reached our destination. the market is a vibrant, buzzing mess of creativity: always something new to see, to smell, to hear. there were paintings, jewelry, honey, flowers, clothes, fruit, soap, candles, live music, etc.
i used to knot bracelets like these, they’re really fun to make.
an outdoor display. the market was so colorful.
i ended up buying a tapestry with a dragon yin and yang design in the center. i actually just put it up in my room today!
while we were deciding where to go next, we spotted a tiny shop called fairy godmother books & toys. it was super cramped (you could barely move without bumping into a shelf or customer) and a bit messy (lots of books were splayed out on the floor instead of stacked), but they had a great selection.
i bought the screaming staircase by jonathan stroud. it’s the first book in one of my favorite series.
by afternoon, we were really hungry, so my mum fed us chocolate from her purse while we went in search of the food trucks. i feel like most mothers carry little snacks in their bags. it kind of creeps me out, because as soon as you say that you’re hungry, all the moms around dig something out of their mary poppins purse. bonus points if someone has those weird strawberry candies.
while we were looking for somewhere to eat, we took a detour through the national gallery of art. i don’t have pictures of the actual paintings, but here’s a photo of a little café tucked between the wings.
i did a drawing based on this one. i’m working on another art post right now so i can share it with you guys.
i wish this one wasn’t so grainy. :/
there was also this insanely cool pathway between two of the galleries. the ground moved under you, and thousands of lights in the walls lit up as you passed.
isn’t this magical?
i got two souvenirs from the art museum: a color wheel pin and a map of the gallery, which i didn’t realize was in mandarin until it was too late.
once we escaped the national gallery, we bought a really chewy soft pretzel from a food truck to share while we explored the statue garden. most of the statues there are just misshapen hunks of metal that would be hard to call art. still, there were pieces like the amor statue, a creepy rabbit, and two boards painted like the sides of a house that looked complete no matter where you were standing that i enjoyed seeing.
all you need is love . . .
lunch was french fries for me and fried chicken sandwiches for izzy and bethany, which i thought looked pretty gross. idk, maybe that’s just how it is in the south.
there was a street musician playing an electric guitar. he could make his voice do some insane stuff. it was nice to listen to while we ate.
we stopped at the smithsonian museum of natural history on our way back to the parking deck that evening. i’ve been there a few times, but it still amazes me. my favorite part is easily the gem section. i didn’t get any photos of it this time, but there are display upon display of vibrant jewels. and the hope diamond is housed there, which is allegedly cursed, so that’s exciting (read about it here).
there was a tiny garden by one of the windows, mostly orchids. i got an orchid around valentine’s day, and all the blooms fell off over the weekend, so i don’t understand how theirs looked so good.
bethany must have mentioned these doors a million times. she was really set on getting a picture in front of them, so we paused to get one once we were done with the natural history museum. i think they’re by the building where the declaration of independence is kept, but i’m not 100% sure.
we listened to twenty one pilots on the way home. the blurryface album is good road trip music.
i had an amazing time, and i’m so glad i have friends who are content to just wander around all day. izzy and bethany, thanks for the wonderful weekend. <3
have you ever been to d.c.? if so, what’s your favorite thing to do there? i like people watching and looking at art.
at the beginning of the month, i spent the weekend in the capitol with two of my friends, bethany and izzy. between the three of us, we took lots of pictures, and it’s taken me forever to edit them all. half of them were blurry because we were laughing too hard to keep the camera steady. (and the photos in this post especially suck because most were taken on my ipod.)
anyway, enjoy the first part of the travel diary. :)
« day one »
in the early afternoon, my mum and i met up with izzy in a lowe’s parking lot (we’re classy). while we went to pick up bethany, we talked about the office — apparently izzy’s dad is making her family watch his favorite episodes. we discussed how similar my brother is to dwight; and, yes, living with him is terrible, thanks for asking.
we picked up bethany from this random lot out in the middle of nowhere, and the banter began immediately. but it was kind of sad banter because our friend kelsie couldn’t make it, so the gang was only ¾ complete.
izzy has this compatibility quiz book that she made us do. basically, you choose between two options (such as make the bed or don’t, organize your files or give them random names, etc.), and the amount of same answers determines what kind of relationship you have. i got “peas in a pod” with both of my friends. but on one page (the infamous toilet paper debate), izzy picked the obviously wrong answer: that the loose end should be on the bottom. it would have been a deal breaker for me, but the book said we were almost soulmates, so i guess i should try to overlook this.
important question: which way do you think the toilet paper should go? if you agree with izzy, you are welcome to unfollow, because i don’t need that kind of negativity on my blog.
(i’m kidding, i love my followers.)
things that happened on the drive:
– we saw a kid riding a razor scooter through the grass by a highway. i will never be that cool.
– google maps kept changing the course and taking us to random fast food places.
– i was listening to heathers: the musical on my ipod and bethany kept playing with the volume. she almost busted my eardrums.
– izzy started flipping her water bottle and i almost threw it out the window.
– we were in my dad’s ancient car, which has no radio, no ac, and the windows only go down halfway. i think we were all dying a little bit because it was so hot in there.
– we got lost (shocking!) and had to get directions from this guy with a beautiful, enormous beard.
– i was smelling izzy’s shirt for some reason (who knows), and i accidentally stuck my nose in her armpit. sorry, izzy! thanks for wearing deodorant that day!
we reached our hotel a little bit before dark. it was windy and cold and we had to climb three stories with all our bags to get to our room. hotels are usually exciting for no reason, so we bounced all over the place, investigating everything.
interesting hotel room finds:
– a rainbow coming through the peephole.
– a safe?? thank you, quality inn of d.c., for thinking of that but not extra washcloths.
– there was an ice bucket that we all thought was a tiny trashcan.
– free mini toiletries!! we divided our plunder and i got lotion + soap with a little star on it.
after we were settled, we drove to the mall in tysons corner. while we were walking through the parking deck, a pigeon flew at us and it kind of freaked me out, because you never know when birds will get fed up with us and become homicidal.
my mum insisted that we stop by the american girl store for nostalgia’s sake.
bethany found this baby as we were wandering around and claimed it as her own. please congratulate her on becoming a mother, we’re all so happy and excited to support her on this journey. :’)
eventually, we got hungry and went in search of food. my friends wanted to make a detour, so we visited the disney store. at that point, i was hungry enough to cook simba and eat unseasoned lion cub, but, luckily, it didn’t come to that.
whenever i’m in d.c., i eat at the exact same chinese place. i probably get exactly the same food, too: sesame chicken with lo mein noodles. but this time, it was so incredibly hot that i actually started crying while i ate it. i’m talking about big tears rolling down my cheeks as i stuffed my face with chinese.
my mouth hurt for a few days after that, but it was worth it.
izzy wanted to buy me something, so we set off for barnes & noble. the store was gigantic: two floors, a café, escalators, and an entire section dedicated to harry potter. we poked around for awhile, and i eventually decided to get the newsies soundtrack on cd and carry on by rainbow rowell. i’ve listened to newsies almost everyday since, and i finished the book, which was super, super great. thanks for spoiling me, izzy. :)
on our way back to the car, bethany convinced us to stop at a makeup store. they had this super cool policy where you were allowed to test all of their products for free. if i knew anything about makeup, it would have been a dream come true.
bethany talked one of the workers into giving her a makeover. she looked amazing. afterwards, we decided that would be the perfect job for her, since she loves talking and doing makeup.
we slipped into the lego store just before it closed. i attempted to recreate whizzer from falsettos as a minifigure. i haven’t been into the musical for very long, so i didn’t quite know what i was doing. but, all things considered, i guess he looks alright.
back in our hotel room, we ate cake (it’s the zodiac from gravity falls. thanks, mum) and watched the live-action cinderella on the tv. it was ok, but it definitely needed more singing.
so that’s how our first day in d.c. went. part two coming whenever i stop procrastinating and finish writing it.
documenting a month through poems and journal entries and song lyrics so it doesn’t get lost in the gray fog that is my life.
i. another year of loving something just out of reach. you are a ghost of a kiss.
ii. it hurts that you are replacing me and i have no one to take your spot. i am tired of missing you and not being able to do anything about it.
iii. i wish i didn’t really kiss the mirror when i’m on my own. oh god, i’m gonna die alone. (teen idle // marina and the diamonds)
v. i haven’t been this angry in a long time. i know that she is just trying to help, and that i am being completely unreasonable. but, god, she is ignorant and i want to break things.
vi.i don’t blame you for being you, but you can’t blame me for hating it. (a little less sixteen candles, a little more “touch me” // fall out boy)
vii. i ran across the city to get to you. cold air, street lamps, heavy breaths, tight chest, shoes pounding against concrete. with every step, i thought, i am getting closer to my future or closer to heartbreak. but i missed you. and i sprinted through the crowded sidewalks again before missing you a second time.
viii. i’d promise you anything for another shot at life. (disloyal order of water buffaloes // fall out boy)
ix. i had a dream where we danced together as it snowed. i have been smiling all day.
i just want to dance with you. i’ve never learned how and i don’t think you have, either, but it doesn’t matter. i want to hold your hands and sway and spin and have you fall in love with me again.
can we try? i don’t care if your palms sweat or if you step on my feet or if the music is bad. just dance with me, please.
x.and i’ve been talking to God, asking for just a little help with you, but it’s hopeless. it’s not the first time, but this one really carved it in. tell your new friends that they don’t know you like i do. it’s over. i wanna see you again, i wanna feel it again. (oh well, oh well // mayday parade)
xi. i am at a party with sweets in my hands, smiling with my friends, and something goes wrong. suddenly everyone is staring at me and expecting the right words from my mouth and the world is caving in, and i can run and cover my ears, but i can still hear the laughter.
xii.one track mind, one track heart. if i fail, i’ll fall apart. maybe it is all a test, cause i feel like i’m the worst so i always act like i’m the best. (oh no! // marina and the diamonds)
xiii. anger, even when it’s not directed at me, makes me hate myself. maybe anger is contagious. maybe one person’s cruelty sparks it in others until everyone’s fists are raised and tears feel like acid on your cheeks. if you could just say you’re sorry — would that be so hard? — i could lower my hands and leave you without guilt tucked into my suitcase.
xiv. the best way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is to realize that two out of three ain’t bad. (i’m like a lawyer with the way i’m always trying to get you off (me & you) // fall out boy)
xv. i am afraid i will not go to heaven. i have been told so many times that i do not deserve it.
xvi. mama who bore me, mama who gave me no way to handle things, who made me so sad. mama, the weeping. mama, the angels. no sleep in heaven, or bethlehem. (mama who bore me (reprise) // spring awakening)
xvii. i woke up before dawn and ran outside in my pajamas to watch the sunrise. water dripped down my forehead and the sky was pink and orange and i was freezing. it was beautiful and you never realize just how little you matter until you are huddled under a watercolor sunrise.
xviii. i’m just a moment, so don’t let me pass you by. we could be a story in the morning, but we’ll be a legend tonight. (outlines // all time low)
xix. life goes on. life goes on, even when you don’t want it to, when you want to pause it and live in that moment because things are good.
things were not good, but i had you and a dream of leaving, and that made them good. i do not want life to go on if you are not in it. i want to live in a moment when you are still here.
xx. best friends, ex-friends to the end. better off as lovers and not the other way around. (bang the doldrums // fall out boy)
xxi. my friends and i cuddled on the fold-out bed in the basement that creaks when you move and pokes you with its springs in the most tender spots. we were laughing, hands intertwined, radiating warmth and lazy joy. i said that i could never be the one to end things because i wouldn’t be able to live with the guilt of breaking someone’s heart, and they agreed.
i didn’t know that you were thinking of ways to say goodbye. i wonder if it would have made a difference if you’d been able to hear us sift through our memories and remember how things began. i am both angry and relieved that you do not seem to bear the same guilt that i do, and i don’t know how that can be.
xxii.i would’ve married you in vegas, had you given me the chance to say “i do.” (vegas // all time low)
xxiii. i said that 2016 was the worst year of my life, because i lost you for the first time and nothing had ever hurt more. now i am saying that 2017 was the worst, because i lost you again and it hurt more than before, more than i imagined anything could hurt. today, it is 2018, and i am afraid that it will be the worst year of my life, because i think i am going to lose you again, permanently. maybe i will recover from this, but not if you are gone forever.
xxiv. i came out grieving, barely breathing and you came out alright. but i’m sure you’ll take his hand, i hope he’s better than i ever could have been. my mistakes were not intentions, this is a list of my confessions i couldn’t say. pain is never permanent but tonight it’s killing me. (december // neck deep)
documenting a month through poems and journal entries and song lyrics so it doesn’t get lost in the gray fog that is my life.
i. i have a loft bed. when the lights are out and i’m climbing the ladder, the bunched up blankets take the form of someone curled up under the covers. a monster, something that looks like me, has stolen my spot.
but then i think, perhaps i’m the monster and the girl in the bed is the real apollo. i’ve always been sure that i’m the human one, but maybe there’s no way to know.
there’s never anything in the bed, of course.
ii.don’t depend on me to ever follow through on anything, but i’d go through hell for you. (going away to college // blink-182)
iii. there is a boy that i’m very fond of. he goes to a church close to my house and sometimes my mom will take me to see him after the service. i haven’t gone in over a month, i guess, even though being near him is all i want.
i have a reason. i was upset at myself, and i thought the best punishment was to stay away from him. and i was right, of course. nothing hurts more than having a chance to see him and saying no. and he won’t read this, but i’m sorry. i’m so, so sorry.
iv.you were the last good thing about this part of town. (grand theft autumn/where is your boy // fall out boy)
v. i keep having to stop and think about how familiar everything feels. i think it’s the sweatshirts and autumn air and shoes against pavement and the loneliness.
vi. think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts. ((headfirst for halos // my chemical romance)
vii. i don’t really talk to myself anymore. i talk to you, in my head. you never answer, of course. so in that way, it’s not very different from talking to you when you’re next to me.
viii. i need you to believe me, can you trust me, that what you see is not what i see? the reflection in the mirror’s telling lies. cause nothing you have done could change how much i love you. (invisible // disciple)
ix. i am too quiet. i am too sad. i am too slow. i am too small. i am too difficult. i am too little or i am too much. i am never enough; i am never just right.
x. if you died i’d hope you’d haunt me, cause you know i’d miss you bad. (i’ll always be around // waterparks)
xi. i am tired and i don’t want to go to school tomorrow and i don’t want to keep thinking about you, but i know i’m going to anyway. i am so tired. i want to cry but there’s nothing there.
xii. shatter your skull, fight pain with more pain. forget who you are, unburden your load. forget in six weeks you’ll be back on the road. (freeze your brain // heathers)
xiii. please don’t leave me completely. you know that would shatter me and all my hopes for the future. i would miss you forever, even if you don’t miss me.
xiv. allow me to exaggerate a memory or two, where summers lasted longer than, well, longer than we do. when nothing really mattered except for me to be with you. but in time we forgot and we all grew. (folkin’ around // panic! at the disco)
xv. this season has been ruined for me. everything that happened in these colder months a year ago are still haunting me. i catch myself staring at calendars and remembering how each day felt like the worst one i had ever survived.
xvi.when you go, just know that i will remember you. if living was the hardest part, we’ll then one day be together. and in the end we’ll fall apart, just like the leaves change in colors. and then i will be with you, i will be there one last time. (it’s not a fashion statement, it’s a deathwish // my chemical romance)
xvii. i read a book where two best friends ran away together. they stayed in a crappy hotel by the ocean and drank and planned their future, listening to the sighing of the waves drifting in through the window. they slept side by side, dreaming together, content with their nearness. i cried for hours after i read it because that is all i want for you and me, and even something so simple is out of reach for us.
i wrote this at 3 a.m., so it’s basically just me being really vulnerable!! please don’t use this as blackmail!!
the ballad of mona lisa | say what you mean, tell me i’m right, and let the sun rain down on me. give me a sign, i want to believe |
i only lied twice: when i said i was ok, and when i said that you had never hurt me.
i wonder if you know that i have nothing left to offer. i cannot give you hope, or an escape, or a smile that says “everything will be alright.” i cannot give you a love worthy of writing songs about.
i need to do something in order to be loved. that is how the world works. i have nothing to give, and i don’t think that i ever did. so why are you still here?
let’s kill tonight | fate will play us out with a song of pure romance |
i have been treated unfairly, and i am allowed to be angry about it. there’s something twisting and winding up in my chest that makes it hard to breathe, and it’s getting tighter, and it’s going to make me explode. i am allowed to sit here while my vision is stained with violent, hazy shades and do nothing about the tightening thing in my chest.
i would like to stand just out of reach and yell about how you put this thing inside me, and how you are acting like it is my fault. i would like to yell about how this is me and i know you hate it and that is why i am becoming someone who only feels in extremes.
hurricane | hey stranger, i want you to catch me like a cold |
i’ve been having that dream again. the one where you are on the sidewalk beneath the i just love . . . sign, and there is a fog over the world that matches my state of mind. i notice you from across the street, and i tell myself that i will know what to say this time. you see me, with eyes that are brown instead of blue, and that is somehow so much better. you walk away. i feel alone again, so alone. the word love is mocking me.
memories | oh memories, where’d you go? you’re all i’ve ever known. how i miss yesterday and how i’d let it fade away |
i am awake one morning when the birds are just beginning their this is a new day! song. pieces of light worm their way through the blinds and lie across the sheets; a drip of hope in this suburban tomb. you are suddenly all over my heart. it takes my breath away because i haven’t bloomed any roses in my soul for you in a long time. i had forgotten what this felt like. i can’t say that i’m glad to have remembered.
oh, blue eyes, don’t you see what you’re doing to me? i know i do not love you anymore. i can’t remember setting my heart on you so many years ago, and i can’t remember when i let you go, either. i had managed to forget that you are the definition of the word ethereal. i had forgotten that i was in love with you, and please, i wish i didn’t have to live with these memories.
trade mistakes | if i ever leave, i could learn to miss you |
you’ve probably forgotten. but believe me when i say that i never will. the room is filled with thick yellow light, the kind that makes you dizzy and only half there. i think i have been crying. i feel sick, like my head is packed with cotton balls, like if i move at all, i will slip away and disappear. i feel disconnected and like i am floating. i guess you were paying attention, because you put your arm around me and let my head rest against you chest.
“i love you,” you said to me.
i have been waiting my entire life to hear those words from you. i hope you can feel my smile against your shirt. i hope you know that you are filling me up with light and joy and the feeling of finally being safe and wanted. after making so many wrong turns in my life, you are the first thing to feel right.
ready to go (get me out of my mind) | i think i’m ready to leave. i’m ready to live |
this is why i lock the bedroom door at night. i feel something strange at five in the morning. the walls are whispering to me, leave, leave. run away, bird. fly. i think i will listen to them someday.
there used to be a bag in my closet, packed with everything i would need to survive, if the hushed words convinced me that i should go tonight. i was going to be a traveling street musician with a song of lament and the confessions i couldn’t say to you.
always | it was always you falling for me. now there’s always time, calling for me. i‘m the light blinking at the end of the road. blink back to let me know|
i’m sorry for never saying hello to you. i was sure that if i opened my mouth, the words i love you would escape instead. i came so close to telling you, my friend, every single time that we spoke.
i wish that one of us had been braver back then. what if we had said something when we still had time? you can spend your whole life dreaming and wishing and praying that you could go back and change one thing, one moment, one sentence. maybe if i had said yes instead of no when your friend asked if i liked you. maybe we would have had more time. maybe i am stuck with the future i have made for myself and there is nothing i can do.
the calendar | and i meant everything i said that night. i will come back to life, but only for you |
if you’re wondering if i miss you, if i still love you — the answer is yes. it is always yes.
my friends tell me about their dreams, when we’re wrapped in blankets and sleepover-induced joy. they say that you and i get a happy ending. i hope that means traveling the world with you and our cameras. you promised, remember?
it will be a happy ending as long as you’re still here, and not just in my poetry and memories.
sarah smiles | i really hoped that you would stay, but you left and went your own way, babe. i don’t mind, take your time, i got things to do besides sit around and way wait for you. oh, and i hope you do, too |
there was a summer that i spent trying to forget you. if you aren’t aware, attempting to forget someone ends up with them being on your mind even more. after all those nights i spent convincing myself that there was someone better out there (it was never the truth), after i could almost believe that i was over you, you turned up again and i was back where i started. i am trying to figure out whether your reappearance was a cruel joke or a spot of sunshine before the storm hit.
nearly witches (ever since we met . . .) | ever since we’ve met, i’ve got just one regret to live through. and i regret never letting you know |
sometimes there’s a part of me that wonders if things would be easier if i had never met you. if i hadn’t skipped a grade, if you hadn’t been held back one, i never would have ended up sitting across from you during art and watching you draw. you make amazing art. you are amazing art.
but i don’t regret it. how could i? you are the best i’ve ever never had.