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AfterImage Jan 2016
And I knew in that moment, you were to me as the moon to the wolf: infinite in beauty, but impossibly far. And for this I cry.
AE Jan 2016
"...He said he'd be home tonight. Knowing his two little daughters were there waiting, maybe even praying with their small hands that he'd come home tonight. Even in the minds of the little girls they knew it was unlikely. He was going home that night, he must he told himself! To him home was the bay where he planted the tree as a child. He was going home to watch the leaves blow off the dying tree as if it's his reflection...."
Free Bird Dec 2015
"She never looked nice. She looked like art, && art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something."



Do I make you feel something?
The book is Eleanor & Park, by Rainbow Rowell
Ananya zootz Oct 2015
Something's just fall right away, without your prior notice without any warnings. You stand there fazed,undoubtedly dubious and straining to comprehend what is happening around you. You are expected to react, to show rage, disappointment, frustration, anguish, anxiety anything. The person is waiting for you to listen to their version of explanation writhing with guilt and anticipation. You though are stricken by some uncanny force which had ****** all your senses and the world is spinning in an instant blur and for you only one thing is clear - that nothing is clear .
You dwell on memories then, trying to find any spare strand of memory which hints,points, accuses of a possible future like present. Anything to say that you weren't this ignorant, that somewhere you were warned.
“His voice became taut as he ran his hand down his jawline and back to the mug in front of him. It was empty, but he held onto it like the warmth from the black coffee hadn’t left it and stared into the bottom as if looking for a world beyond where he was. 

'Tell me,' he breathed, 'was it your mother or your ex-lover who first taught you that you ought to be afraid of heights?
Who told you that the fall would be so bad?
Do you ever think it’s unfair to let others around you jump when you can’t even work up the courage to climb down the ladder to catch them at the bottom? Forget falling as fast as I did, but did you even look over the edge?'
Her breath caught in her throat as she fought tears and opened her mouth to explain as he cut her off,

'Who taught you that you should fear the places you try to forget instead of making peace with them?
Why won’t you tell me about your grandmother’s house or where you spent eighth grade?
Why do you feel like you can’t heal or forget or at least be comfortable with the reality that you never want to go back?
Why do you feel more at home in a city full of strangers than in a room with people you’ve grown up with and how come you won’t let me be your comfort?
Is it really so bad that you’d rather spend a night in a city that never sleeps instead of a night in with me?
How did it get to this point of uncertainty?
How did I not see this coming?'
He cleared his throat as he tapped his fingers against his mug, placing each finger against the ceramic as though it were the neck of a guitar. When he spoke again it was thin,

'Where did you learn to have a high-speed come apart every time things are looking up?'
His chin lowered but his eyes stayed on her face, pleading for so much as a change in her expression but she remained silent, the lump in her throat threatening tears at any second. 
Finally he croaked,
'I just wish to be the place your heart finds solace, I just want to give your soul a rest. I know it’s cliché but I just want to be your favorite.'"
"...There are miracles in the way their eyes linger, wishes in hands that are kept folded to still the trembling.

There is wonder in knowing that, someday, they will never have to let go, ever again.

This is what I fight for, this is what I've waited for, this is what gives me hope for the future.

This is what's meant to be.


...But late at night, when the bed that waits for me is empty, I fold wishes in my hands, and shed tears for what cannot be."
I had a day of multiple journal entries.

Of course, not all of it was worth mentioning, but I reread them recently, and I really liked this bit...
someone Jan 2015
you, my dear, have made me feel things i've only known of in dreams. for happiness, never existed in my reality. i think of you, and i can't help but believe in god's existence because who else could come up with someone as majestic as you are? you redefined words for me. you redefined life for me. and most importantly, you redefined love for me. my heart no longer aches of pain, no. my heart aches from missing you, missing someone i've not had the privelege of calling mine, yet.
Allison Jan 2015
The feeling of you has since been washed away by the rain of a thousand storms, but every once in awhile the wind blows across my face and I feel where you kissed my cheek every afternoon and I wince.
Our love is the moments when time slows and we simply breathe together, and I can feel our heart beats whisper to each other.
A line from an old poem I wrote, my favorite line. It sums it all up.

— The End —