14 юни, 2017

existential crisis

A year ago
Shopping for prom
Looking awful
Modera
Throwing sugar at me

Beginnings like this will always live within the deepest parts of what's left of my soul. And so will their endings. It is a bit of a paradox that endings live but they do. They are all dressed in the words I never said when I wanted to, wearing the make up of stolen kisses when the lights were off and the smiles when they weren't. Scented in french and coffee. Some things will always mean too much. By things I mean people and all the memories that came with them. By memories I mean the daily whirlpool that drowns my sanity, always at the back of my mind. Not a day goes by where I don't miss things, I don't want things and I don't regret them.
Ask me if I regret agreeing to go there in the first place and I can't give you an answer. I am so deeply and eternally grateful to know him... I am. But I'd live much easier if I didn't know if someone like him even existed. Even with all his moods and crappy character. Even with all the ghosts because those make us real. 
Am I unreal because I don't have a ghost? Or am I the ghost in my own life?

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