I was caught in between all you wished for and all you need.
This was Brooklyn and I’s song. Sophomore year, when she had that scary problem with throwing up blood. I’ve listened to it countless times in the soccer fields, at rainbow’s end, at the lights (seven seconds). Over and over, good and bad, happy and sad. Sometimes you just can never let things go, even when you know you have to.
The fact that he is too fucking perfect. That at every misglance or sigh or look in my eye and he knows something wrong and he has to KNOW what it is. Every I love you every second of the day and I miss you and I want you and I need you and every little fucking thing. Everytime he has to open the car door for me. Every time he sends me cute little texts. Every song and poem and picture. Every confession of undying love. I never knew perfection could get me so pissed off. Just because, it lets me know how imperfect I am.
Sometimes I wish things could be like this. Where every moment is that polaroid snapshot in time that you can never forget, no matter how hard you try (but you don’t want to). My heart is too big for the dresses I wear and I’m trying to dress my wounds but try as I might, I can’t forget about you.
“Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings.”—