Leaning the bridge of my nose against yours will always be my favorite feeling.
Thinking about the weight of your hands in my hair and the soft whisper of your breath tickling my lips is the only thing that can relax me anymore.
I remember when we ran from my car to the house in the pouring rain, but you blocked me from the door so you could pick me up and kiss me like that scene from the Notebook.
I remember sneaking you inside so I could have something more than a blanket to keep me warm.
But that's all they are anymore—memories. Memories about a person I'm still in love with, but shouldn't be with, because I also remember nights you kept me up crying.
"I hate you."
"I wish I never loved you."
"I wish we never met."
"I wish I could forget you."
I remember the days you ignored my calls, ignored me as I stood in front of your door, begging you to let me in.
I remember the nights I stayed up late writing letters and poems, trying to figure out what the hell I was trying so hard to hold on to.
You were mine for two years. Two years out of my existence was spent loving you.
I know I probably ruined things when I tried to find comfort in tasting the lips of others. And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
But you were still mine and I was still yours.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
Leaning the bridge of my nose against yours will always be my favorite feeling.
Thinking about the weight of your hands in my hair and the soft whisper of your breath tickling my lips is the only thing that can relax me anymore.
I remember when we ran from my car to the house in the pouring rain, but you blocked me from the door so you could pick me up and kiss me like that scene from the Notebook.
I remember sneaking you inside so I could have something more than a blanket to keep me warm.
But that's all they are anymore—memories. Memories about a person I'm still in love with, but shouldn't be with, because I also remember nights you kept me up crying.
"I hate you."
"I wish I never loved you."
"I wish we never met."
"I wish I could forget you."
I remember the days you ignored my calls, ignored me as I stood in front of your door, begging you to let me in.
I remember the nights I stayed up late writing letters and poems, trying to figure out what the hell I was trying so hard to hold on to.
You were mine for two years. Two years out of my existence was spent loving you.
I know I probably ruined things when I tried to find comfort in tasting the lips of others. And I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
But you were still mine and I was still yours.
@heliosflor
