This feeling of missing you has never been new.
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Cigarette to your lips
You still look for his
It has been the storms, refusing to end
And umbrellas, yellow amidst the black ones, its nylon barely holding on to the metal spines
But we stay dry-er.
It has been the close failures and the impending sure ones, the determining numbers of our futures
It has been us and 2 hours of sleep in this whirlwind of a catastrophe
But mostly it has been the choices, the ones etched in every mile stone, every blind turn
It has been us and the unwavering yes to this.
Hold on and go far, no matter the wreckage.
When does the sinking feeling end?
Amidst the sleepless nights, the passionate thrives
Day 15
You have turned into this battle I have to win. When has love become so violent? When has our love become this difficult?
Day 14
I hope we try again.
Some day. Some other time.
When we’re stronger than now.
Day 12
We were fearless. We dove in, hearts first. Now we have hit rock bottom, cowering behind excuses and apologies.
Though now it pains us both, I do not regret our gallantry- diving in, despite our already broken limbs. I do not regret you. I do not regret us.
Day 11
I have grown tired of telling our story. From where it began to where it ended.
I have grown tired of counting scores- the record of rights and wrongs.
But I have never grown tired of missing you. God, I miss you. Please come back.
Day 10
Sometimes, love is not enough. There are storms we cannot control and histories we cannot rewrite.
Our love did not go as deep as the wounds in our flesh. It is not enough to love and be loved, the universe is much more complex. It demands patience throughout the unfathomable. But we were too eager.
Now, we sit in silence, distant and defeated. Now, more than ever, I miss you. But Im trying my best not to.