This is nostalgia in the worst way: with every trace of a memory, each and every strand slowly weaving it's way back to a collective in and of itself
And tonight I am taken back to places I have long desired to forget, of first times and sunrises, of moments, of half awake conversations by the seaside, of awkward kisses and long embraces, of everything and of nothing, of me of you of us. i haven't been back here ever since you left and it's painful, the way everything floats back to you, the way these memories that you tried so desperately to forget begin to haunt you in staggering glimpses, where places reek of nothing but the ghosts of memories left behind, of people who no longer belong in your life, of broken glass and tears
I remember you told me there was a shortcut to the edge of town and I laughed in complete disbelief, but cycling down that road and coming to realize you were right all along made me feel all sorts of things I can't seem to put a finger to— all I know is that I missed it all, from the end to the beginning and
I miss you in the worst way imaginable
No comments:
Post a Comment