february 3, 2017 5:21PM
february 3, 2017 5:21PM writers-of-tumblr stories
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I have found myself in many situations wherein, I am idle and my mind is on absolutely nothing and everything; and suddenly you appear. Not your face or your name in bold letters but just the thought of you. It’s neither happy nor sad nor any other emotion I know. You aren’t smiling or making faces.
By andiewrites http://andiewrites.tumblr...

february 3, 2017 5:21PM

by andiewrites

I have found myself in many situations wherein, I am idle and my mind is on absolutely nothing and everything; and suddenly you appear.

Not your face or your name in bold letters but just the thought of you. It’s neither happy nor sad nor any other emotion I know. You aren’t smiling or making faces.

It’s just you, and the thought of you. I realize after that it is very rare that I intentionally think of you, yet when I do, it’s more than a thought.

It’s the way your old favorite song plays in your head but you can only recognize it’s rhythm; and when you finally spew out lyrics, it all comes back.

The background vocals and the drum beat at the forty-seventh second; the quiet synths you don’t realize until you’ve blasted it in headphones late at night; the way your cheekbones

look dewy after you speak too loud and a little too much. The way we knew exactly what the other would say but still asked anyways. I learned you like I learned how to ride a bike.

With caution in every step and risk in every fall. I fell for you like a right uppercut right in the face; I could’ve blocked it but I didn’t.

I stayed with you like a classic family recipe, through anything, even crazy sister in laws. Society says you can’t forget how to learn a bike; they are wrong.

One of my best friends forgot how to. And so in an instant, i lost my skill. I could no longer bike and i could only crawl.

But being on my knees wasn’t anything new, and something I was used to when it came to you. The scrapes on my knees have since dried up, still scarring faintly like a dark part of me stayed.

I could put wound cream and cover you up with a gauze and bandages and pink band-aids, but you’ll still be there. And so you’ve left your mark.

I cannot lie that sometimes, you still seem like a great option and a love lost. But you aren’t anything I

I never finished this journal, but I think it’s a good thing I finished it with a pronoun of myself. It’s the best thing I got out of you

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