You are my unsent message. The cursor blinking rhythmically, With my heartbeat, Waiting, For me to hit send. But I am not ready, And I’m not sure if I ever will be So I left it like that. Unsent. Unseen. Unread. “I miss you.”
When you look for love, find someone who makes you appreciate the little things in life, like the shift of the sky from day to night, the sunsets, the sunrise, how the stars dance in the night sky and how the moon brightens the universe in the absence of the sun.
It hurts a lot. It hurts so much and I know you're never going to understand why it hurts me but just know it does. It's ****. And I'm crying. And i don't know what else to say besides that I don't want to loose you.. Again. And again. And again. I know I don't act like I love being around you but I do. I'm just ******* stupid. It's been so good just having you back in my life and talking almost how we used to and I thought we might actually get back to the way it was before it all. But no. I'll try to deal for awhile.
Maybe it hurts so much because it makes me realize that I'm not even half of what you are to me as a person. as a feeling. as an inspiration. I hope I handle it better than I have in the past and I'll be preparing for your absence. Again
on your birthday I wrote a letter comprised of all that I adored; words articulated in strikethroughs and barrelled with smiley faces to disguise my evident addiction to your smile --to your happiness.
and although I value your happiness the letter remains at the bottom of my computer untouched, unsent because my heart is already shred to pieces, and the thought of you dismissing the words I poured myself in is unbearable.
words; they never articulated properly although I pride myself a writer; I addressed situations I overanalysed over countless nights of lost sleep, where your mouth dropped, your eyes lowered your breath grew heavier after another brutal attack from my unaffectionate words.
I noted little things; conflicts within yourself and wrote about them, my remedy a simple melody contrasting the bitter tunes spat at you, through widened eyes and curled lips.
That letter is unsent because it exposes too much about how often I think dream feel about you.