Looking at people move on, away and further from you is harder than it sounds. You reassure yourself that history will never be erased, that friendships withstand more than time apart- but it's difficult to stifle the nagging ache that surfaces.

Friends come and go, but best friends who mean more hold on- or so I'm hoping.

I think about our hopes and dreams, of where careers and life will take us ( Read more... )

Its nearly time to sleep, and suddenly I am gripped by a feeling of missing you; very badly so. The thought of hours ahead without the familiarity and warmth you bring is pushing me strangely close to tears, and like you've said so often- how have I done without us all this while ( Read more... )

It has been 7 straight days, and counting. Once it was amazing that we could spend 36 hours together, and now a week seems much too short. Looking at your sleeping face while the blistering wind pours through the window, I almost wish I never have to leave ( Read more... )

7 in the morning, and you told me your dream; we fought, it hurt.

And as I held you I came to realize
just how much I want this.
And just how hard I would try for us.

As much as I feel like I've 'grown up' in perhaps the most superficial sense of the phrase- the lessened inclination towards instant gratification, the ability to use my head instead of blindly giving in to the hasty and usually disastrous inclinations of the heart, etc.- on some days it just feels like I never did. Suddenly the frustrations of ( Read more... )

I told her and I told you, it is strange and lovely how this feels.

Just as I wavered, unsure; you spoke and I was reassured.
The strangest thing was, I didn't even know what I needed, what I was looking for till you said them.

It suddenly feels like everyone is gone; not always, not forever, but for long enough. The initial separation is comparatively easy, you message or say your goodbye, wish them well and off they go to a land of the new and the thrilling ( Read more... )

Looking around it suddenly strikes me how we accumulate clutter, not by any given choice but out of a need to remember. The belt she gave you but you never wore, the dried remnants of sunflowers he once proffered with shy smiles and knowing intent. We take these pieces and hoard them, squirreled away in pretty cardboard boxes, in unused drawers and ( Read more... )