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Azariah Apr 2020
When he smiles,
Instead of butterflies,
I'm flooded with nostalgic memories of times spent together laughing like hyenas.
And roasting each other as if we were marshmallows on a stick hovering over a campfire.
Memories of talking over the phone for hours,
Where he does not whisper sweet nothings to me, instead we speak about the moon,
the stars, everthing and question why everything is the way it is.
This is why when I seek comfort I go to him.
Because I get more than this,
He gives me insight,
A different perspective
Or a reason to self-reflect.

He is not my pillar of strength.
He is the healthiest relationship I've had with a boy for years.  
He is Ray.
Like the ray of sunshine flowers need to grow.
He does not know this yet
but he is definitely the platonic love of my life.
My best friend and I always joke about how we definitely feel like we connect on an emotional level but we have never thought of being involved romantically.
Azariah Apr 2020
To: the nineteen year old version of myself who's falling in love right now.

Love him.
Love him with all your heart, lungs, liver and kidneys too.
In fact, just love him with your entire existence.

Love him even though he will not love you back.

And it's okay because I need you to do that for me so I can grow.

Love,
Me
It had to happen to help me to self-reflect and start a journey of self discovery and loving myself.
Azariah Apr 2020
My absent father made me feel a range of emotions,
Happiness was not one of them
And love was not included.
Azariah Apr 2020
The past is a place where everyone wishes to go to once in a while.
But if all wishes came true
Then no one would be satisfied.
This is why minds should process,
That progress comes by being friends with the day and moving with time.
Azariah Apr 2020
I am not weak.
But you will never know this.
Because you were told,
That I was enclosed in glass,
And that I needed to be handled with care.

Your mistake was thinking that I was made up of glass.
Azariah Apr 2020
Dating you always seemed like we were holding hands at first.
Tightly gripped and firm.
Then you started to loosen your grip and I held mine in place.
Still tightly gripped and firm.
Over time...your hand started slipping from mine and I still held on.
Until that night...when you finally yanked your hand away from mine.

Now I hold my own hand...in a fist.
Tightly gripped and firm.

Waiting to punch you in the throat.
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