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One day you will meet someone, whose eyes remind you of the river; deep, blue, and magical. He'll put his hand in yours and you won't know what to say. And the first time you kiss? That's all you'll think about it for the next week. And one day he'll break your heart. And you'll cry, and cry, and cry. You'll cry into your best friends arms and apologize for leaving her alone. You'll stay up late writing poetry and eating ice cream. You'll see him in the hallways and sigh. But one day, you will be okay. I promise.
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Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
A Letter to my Past Self
One day you will meet someone, whose eyes remind you of the river; deep, blue, and magical. He'll put his hand in yours and you won't know what to say. And the first time you kiss? That's all you'll think about it for the next week. And one day he'll break your heart. And you'll cry, and cry, and cry. You'll cry into your best friends arms and apologize for leaving her alone. You'll stay up late writing poetry and eating ice cream. You'll see him in the hallways and sigh. But one day, you will be okay. I promise.
robin-marie
Written by
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
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