Every word she speaks, I’ve written, and every place she kisses, I’ve left my mark there. I have spilled my love on you and left stains all over your heart, just like I’d leave coffee stains on the table cloth. You’ll see me in her, even in the smallest ways, maybe it’s how her hair is long down her back, and for a moment you’ll see mine dark and wavy. Or maybe it’s the way she stirs her tea in the evening, and the sound of the spoon hitting her mug sounds all too well. It’s in the way she finds out you’re ticklish on the side of your tummy, of course, I was the first to discover that. Yet it isn’t everything she does like me that will make you miss me more, it’s what she doesn’t do. She will gaze over your work, kiss your head, and say good job. When I would sit on your lap and inspect every inch, finding your flaws and perfections between each space. Telling you to fix this, change that, leave this. It’s how the house will feel empty, because the bookshelf doesn’t carry many books anymore. It’s how the smell of my perfume was your favorite, and you’ll realize the cheap shit smells better than the expensive stuff, like I told you. It’s how she dresses up for you at night time, and when you laugh she will take offense to it. ‘Cause when you laughed at me, you were laughing with me, I felt like a fool and looked like one. So I wore just my skin instead, besides, that’s how you liked it. It’s how she laughs at poetry and mocks art that makes you feel misunderstood, almost alone. It’s when you look back and remember how we’d tell each other what we thought each piece meant, and how it touched our hearts that will make you miss me a little more. It’s when you’re laying in bed and she’s next to you, but you remember the times it was me. You will touch her skin and for a moment think it’s me under you, until you open your eyes to be reminded. It will be when you realize you lost not only a lover, but a best friend. You use to tell me to give and receive love is all you wanted, and that’s what you got. Until you realized that love needs friendship too, it needs a laugh when you’re suppose to moan and a whisper when you’re suppose to shut up. It needs being comfortable in silence and learning to love the things you hate. It needs much more than loving something because, but loving something despite. It needs me, as much as I need you.
i.c. // “we were not only lovers, but friends”
I know it’s nothing that a plane ticket or car ride couldn’t fix, but god, you don’t understand it unless you’ve been in it, unless you’ve felt it. It’s that feeling that hits your chest when you two finally say goodnight after listening to each other’s voices for the past few hours, and you’ll wonder why every time you say goodnight it feels like a goodbye. It’s how even though you two just had a wonderful conversation your eyes start to fill up with tears because it’s a bittersweet feeling, because once they hang up you’re alone again. Not just physically, but mentally, emotionally. You’re alone. It’s how a good morning text stands in for a good morning kiss, and how a “what’re you doing?” replaces hand holding. It’s how you two can’t help but talk about how every moment will be spent when you’re finally together, how a kiss will be more than just a kiss, how a hug is something that will last hours instead of seconds, and how looking in each other’s eyes will be more like analyzing each little spec of dark brown in their iris. It’s how you know that once you get to touch their skin it will be like touching the moon, and each little freckle will be your star to wish on, only yours. It’s how you’ll discover new galaxies in their laugh, and how each little scar will be more than that, it will be a story you want to read, so you’ll trace your fingers across them like braille. You’ll think of all this, all day, every day, every moment, even when you two are lost in conversation, you’ll think of it. And that’s the thing that keeps you hanging on, that keeps you going. The promise that every time you see the moon, it’s one step closer to seeing them soon. So you’ll close your weary eyes, and dream of them in your arms. Once you awake there will be a message, “Good morning…” and shall your love be awakened again, to swim through oceans, travel over mountains.
i.c. // a love separated
Lovers are patient and know that the moon needs time to become full.
Everything you love is here
(Source: wordsnquotes.com, via lovequotesrus)