I've been staring at this blank page for months
Knowing I should be able to write
The beautiful things that happened to us
The twists and wonders
Alive and palpable possibilities
Which now seem dead to me
Because we were never in love
But oh god we could have been

It's like cooking something for the first time,
burning your hand and never wanting to cook again.
Even though you know what you would cook deserves to be on the menu of some five star restaurant. One that lovers go to, to sip fine wine and stare off at the sunset as they learn how to fall in love all over again. You still can't bring yourself to do it. You can't turn on the stove because every time you do that same fiery sensation rushes through your veins, reminding you what it's like to burn. You shutter, trying to think what life would be like if you never turned the stove on in first place.

I am so jealous
jealous* of everybody
everybody who's close to you
you who are far away
away from where I am living
living without loving,
loving without hoping,
hoping without knowing
knowing how this will end
end, if there is one.

Six months ago I was jumping through hoops to please you.
Six months ago I wanted to make sure you were happy before myself.
Six months ago I wanted to make sure it was me causing your happiness.
But it's not six months ago. It is now.

"it's been said that
everlasting friends
go long periods of time
without speaking
and never
question their friendship.
These friends pick up
like they just spoke yesterday
regardless of how long it has been
or how far away they have lived,
and they don't hold grudges.

They understand life is busy but
love is always there."

My favorite sounds
are all the times you
said my name
laughed at my jokes
whispered sorry
and
didn't hesitate