You don’t ever really let go, though. You don’t stop. You don’t stop hurting, you don’t stop loving. It doesn’t go away, you just keep living and eventually things get pushed into the background of your life so it’s not consuming you every day. And then one day you know you’re okay. It still hurts, you still miss that person. And yeah, you forget the details. The way she smelled, the way her mouth tasted, how her skin felt, the sound of her voice. It’s almost like a different life, a different person that loved her, was with her. But on a day-to-day level, you know you’re okay. Sort of.
This is now.
Also have to admit I miss the specialness that the random but meaningful texts held, the ones that said ‘goodnight honeybuns’ or ‘thinking about you beautiful’
Can I admit there’s something about slipping down under all of your blankets and waking up in the morning still covered in them.
I just want to be walking on the beach. Alone. Soaking up silence - sun - salt - air - thoughts.