4 Lines
I cried in the shower today because of a little poem I read, right as I woke up. Its on @milliemoonhouse's Instagram. At first I didn't know why I was crying then I gave it some more thought.
I don't know who wrote it.
Its like taking that leap of faith. Its about acknowledging that vulnerability and possibility that you won't stop loving that person even after your chance is through and he or she has changed his mind.
The prospect is utterly sweet but immensely frightening.
Maybe I'm projecting, but hey, the brain works in mysterious ways. It makes me sad. I see it as a tragedy of unrequited love coupled with the inability to move on beyond it, but of course, that is only if the poem's protagonist changes his/her mind. It is a completely different story if he/she doesn't.
See how the little things affect me! Gosh I wonder why I'm so sensitive.
I'm overthinking again, and hormo-tional. Such is the struggle of a hopeless romantic. Oh well.
I met Bestie today. I missed how I can be completely unguarded with her. She is the single person who may know me better than I know myself. She loves me despite everything I am and what I am not and I adore her for it.
I wonder if I can be equally as exposed around someone else and still be as loved, and not in a platonic sense of the word. I know its possible, but I also know that a lot of people live their lives without getting that opportunity.
I'm such a drama queen aren't I? Well... maybe I'll write a romance novel. I've always dreamed of being a writer. Maybe you'll even get to read it someday.
"I fall in love,
I fall to my knees,
I'll love you more if you catch me,
I'll still love you more if you change your mind."
Its like taking that leap of faith. Its about acknowledging that vulnerability and possibility that you won't stop loving that person even after your chance is through and he or she has changed his mind.
The prospect is utterly sweet but immensely frightening.
Maybe I'm projecting, but hey, the brain works in mysterious ways. It makes me sad. I see it as a tragedy of unrequited love coupled with the inability to move on beyond it, but of course, that is only if the poem's protagonist changes his/her mind. It is a completely different story if he/she doesn't.
See how the little things affect me! Gosh I wonder why I'm so sensitive.
I'm overthinking again, and hormo-tional. Such is the struggle of a hopeless romantic. Oh well.
I met Bestie today. I missed how I can be completely unguarded with her. She is the single person who may know me better than I know myself. She loves me despite everything I am and what I am not and I adore her for it.
I wonder if I can be equally as exposed around someone else and still be as loved, and not in a platonic sense of the word. I know its possible, but I also know that a lot of people live their lives without getting that opportunity.
I'm such a drama queen aren't I? Well... maybe I'll write a romance novel. I've always dreamed of being a writer. Maybe you'll even get to read it someday.
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