This just felt like it came from me 😫 all the things I want to say but won’t let myself admit.
But I know deep down that you still take up space and I let you even though it hurts and the space is closing but it’s a fight because somehow I still want you to be there in that space I created just for you.
I feel lost in the memory of you, silently waiting for you to reach back out to me but I know my slightest bit of hope is hopeless. You won't reach out. You don't miss me. You don't care. Yet I'm still here..
I heard this line somewhere and it went like "You're waiting at the door of an empty dark room, hoping he's still there" and oh that hit me like a truck
Remembering can be visceral and feel SO close to missing someone. I love that you made the distinction, and described it so well. Like loving with an empty, closed fist. For me, it's a strange version of love that KNOWS better. and maybe is the memory of a love that was never going to ever exist. The way I wanted it too.
“But I remember. And remembering feels like loving someone with a closed fist. Tight. Unwilling to let go, but already empty.”
….could you kiss the brick next time you throw it at me please? But also you don’t even know how well this put feelings i’ve been having for months now into words i couldn’t. Thank you for that ❤️.
And the fact that they'll never get to hear this makes it even more of a paradox
you just stabbed me pls
this tore me up in a way i didnt think anything could
This just felt like it came from me 😫 all the things I want to say but won’t let myself admit.
But I know deep down that you still take up space and I let you even though it hurts and the space is closing but it’s a fight because somehow I still want you to be there in that space I created just for you.
I feel this in my bones
I feel lost in the memory of you, silently waiting for you to reach back out to me but I know my slightest bit of hope is hopeless. You won't reach out. You don't miss me. You don't care. Yet I'm still here..
okay rip the bandaid off fine then🫠
I heard this line somewhere and it went like "You're waiting at the door of an empty dark room, hoping he's still there" and oh that hit me like a truck
I felt the raw moment of this all
Remembering can be visceral and feel SO close to missing someone. I love that you made the distinction, and described it so well. Like loving with an empty, closed fist. For me, it's a strange version of love that KNOWS better. and maybe is the memory of a love that was never going to ever exist. The way I wanted it too.
Sigh
Wow this is so profound and amazing 😭🫶🏾🫶🏾
'How cruel hope can be when it only belongs to one of us' dug far too deep into my soul . This was beautiful to read
Thankyou for writing this.
“But I remember. And remembering feels like loving someone with a closed fist. Tight. Unwilling to let go, but already empty.”
….could you kiss the brick next time you throw it at me please? But also you don’t even know how well this put feelings i’ve been having for months now into words i couldn’t. Thank you for that ❤️.
god this was…wow
my god.