After all this damn time

I still think about you every day. 


oh, Monday

Of course

the day I get back into town, it’s not the same without you.

It’s stupid that one night after months apart can warp your whole view of reality. After I feel like I’ve finally gotten over our past, one tiny temptation has me rethinking everything I’ve spent months working on forgetting.

I’m at a stand still. I can’t move without thinking about how you are. It’s honestly paralyzing. And there’s no way I can fix it - no matter how I feel about someone else, I know you’re there, somewhere, living a life that I could potentially be a part of. In my mind, I create a scenario of what I hope my life will be. And whether or not I want it, it always seems to include you.


n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk. (The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)