Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jules Jan 2019
what my forays into online dating offered me that wasn’t s*x; european coffee beans, a film camera from the 70s, a workshop on ceramics, chicken parmagiana, bottles of blueberry lemonade, thai food that isn’t spicy, help with calculus homework, notes on gen chem, all the Star Wars movies, a book about magic: the gathering, a ride to an nba game, museum visits, nature walks, impulsive road trips, stories about their exes, silly anecdotes, photos of their pets, quality memes, awkward hugs that felt good.

such small intimacies, never blossoming into something bigger yet still imbued with meaning..

filled with what-ifs, if-onlys, and almosts.
Jules Feb 2019
i have been in deep contemplation these past few days, trying to come up with reasons for what I’m feeling —


but there isn’t anything in particular, maybe i just like seeing you smile, hearing your contentment in laughters, and the tinge of annoyance that your stern voice exudes,

or it could just be you, in its simplest forn.

i miss you, i miss you, i miss you
maybe if i start repeating it over and over again, it’ll lose its meaning



but for now, i wait
in longing,
hoping that maybe one day, you’ll feel the same
1.0k · Mar 2019
hopeful? maybe
Jules Mar 2019
To Gatsby,
it is the green light shining across his bay that he could never seem to reach,
To the earth,
it is the sky that she could only touch as the horizon spreads out,
To the moon,
it is the sun that he continues to chase since the beginning of time, only to find her shinning for just a couple of seconds.
To me,
you.
748 · Feb 2018
s o m e t h i n g
Jules Feb 2018
there is something
about the way he smiled
that makes my heart flutter
and break
into a million tiny pieces
all at the same time
687 · Jun 2017
no inches in between
Jules Jun 2017
We were on top of your rooftop, still five inches between us, looking up the sky and fighting the urge to hold hands. I thought of all the things I kept within me.

I didn't even like you, at least that's what I thought.
I didn't like the way my name slips through your tongue or how calming your voice sounds over the phone.
I didn't like our late night conversations about how vast this universe is and how the both of us are mere particles in this world filled with billions, silently in anguish.
I didn't even like our afternoons spent biking around the park, enjoying the breeze and color of fall, our favorite season of all.

I didn't like the way you smile at me whenever I'm being serious, when I'm in this corner contemplating myself, you'll flash that sarcastic smile of yours that makes me want to punch you.

I didn't like the way your palm touches the back of my neck whenever we would kiss,

I didn't like the way you say "I love you", soothing and calming,

I hated myself for never saying it back.
"I love you" you would say
"I know" I'd reply



The truth is that I don't just like you or love you, it's a very shallow way of labeling what I truly feel for you.

My darling, I live for you.

I live for these moments, I live for your smile, your sweetness, and warmness. Even words aren't enough to describe the euphoria that you give me.
You've kept me alive, you're the reason of my every breath,
You're my rock.

And I live for you even when you drive me insane, especially then.
I wouldn't have it any other way.

And as my favorite book says
"“You can be Han Solo, ‘And I’ll be Boba Fett. I’ll cross the sky for you.”


Now we're back on your rooftop, hand in hand, no inches in between.
this piece is inspired by rainbow rowell's eleanor and park, my all time favorite ya novel :)
667 · Jun 2017
why
Jules Jun 2017
why
as the blade runs through the flesh,
blood starts gushing out

she cried,
she screamed,
p a i n f u l l y
repeating it all over again
with a sense of hesitation

a miasma of burning cigarettes
and stale alcohol hung in the background
with bits of despair and tears

——

why can't she do it?
why can't she end her life?
why can't she save herself?
515 · Jun 2017
nostalgia
Jules Jun 2017
Sometimes I'd find myself awake at four in the morning with a sense of longing and I’d type this long letter for you and after moments of contemplating myself, I'd delete it. But there are times that I get really weak and I can’t help it. I miss you, I really do. This is why I’m fighting the the urge to think about you let alone write about you and yet here I am, staring at the insertion point blinking back at me.

I always thought about how the little things matter, how these tiny pieces, when put together has the ability of making us feel whole and hurt us at the same time or how they make us remember. Missing you starts from the little things that'll eventually pile up into this huge mess of feelings.
Leaving me out of control, alone in misery.

——

I hate how I remember you in the morning, when the clock strikes eight, as the warm and fuzzy early morning breeze embraces my body,
I can’t help but wonder if you’re already awake
Have you started your day with a cup of of coffee? I know that's what you usually do.
Or at least, I knew..

I remember you at noon, you've always dreaded this part of the day. At this point, the scorching heat is just overwhelming.
You hate how the noontime sun burns and makes your skin feel dry.


I remember you in the afternoon, a cup of coffee in one hand, looking up the sky from your office window, wondering why you're at work on such a lovely day.


I remember you at night, while the stars lie like blankets on the evening sky,
you're on your rooftop, finding constellations because it relaxes you, it makes you feel safe,
you've always told me about how you love the night more than day,
"It's more richly colored", that's what you'd say while i fight back the laughter



Finally, I remember you at midnight, it's in these wee hours of the night where I find myself weak,  everything is silent and almost everyone is soundly asleep.

You were the night and I was the day and even if we met halfway, it never felt right to stay.
But I've realized how painful it is to not have you around, no one could ever fill the void that you've left. I've lost a piece of myself that I could never find again
484 · Dec 2018
i had a revelation
Jules Dec 2018
When I first heard the phrase “crying in the shower”, I thought it was an over exaggeration. I did not understand why people always use it, does it make a difference? Why not just say “crying on my bed”, “at the dinner table”, or “in the garage”, what is so special about crying in the shower? Does it make things more dramatic?

I’ve never experienced it, I’ve never experienced it until today. It’s the 24th of December and I’m sitting inside my bath tub completely drenched, trying my best to piece together an explanation when my relatives finally figure out where I’ve been hiding. I think now I know what it feels like to cry in the shower.

It’s funny how sadness creeps up on you, it’s so random! Much like any other emotions that you feel; the mundane of day-to-day life where you can be eating, reading the newspaper, watching a series, replying to a text, walking your dog, petting your cat or even just making small talk while standing in a room full of people and it just, it hits you.

And it hurts. I don’t think there’s an appropriate adjective in the english dictionary that can describe it. I wish there was a way. I wish there was a way to deal with pain, with sorrow, with sadness, without losing yourself. As the 1975 puts it, “If I’m lost then how can I find myself?”
440 · Aug 2017
okay.
Jules Aug 2017
sadness just eats you up until you have absolutely nothing,
it clings on you and ***** everything you have that feels good


you try to wash it down with *****
and the pills that lets you sleep,
but when you wake up you still feel the emptiness,
no matter what you do it just keeps haunting you,


then you started pretending,
you lie to yourself,
because maybe that can make it easier
and bearable


but in reality, you know can't cheat grief.
so you just listen to that old lie that kept you going; "it's gonna be okay"
even if it'll never be.
morning musings I
334 · Nov 2018
will it be worth it?
Jules Nov 2018
here’s to the risk takers,

unafraid of uncertainty and the pain it carries.

what is life without risks anyway?
331 · Nov 2018
i must be dreaming
Jules Nov 2018
you make living feel happier, easier, better.

i want to get lost in the depths of your eyes,

green as the grass in spring, more breathtaking than my favorite scene.

“stay, stay, stay”, a silent whisper in between hopes and wishful thinking
312 · Dec 2018
ambien and contemplation
163 · Apr 2019
fifty-six days after
Jules Apr 2019
the spaces
between my fingers —
a  place where you belong,
home

not anymore

— The End —