the most tragic moment of my life, was realizing my own Cassandra complex. realizing no matter how many times i told people it wouldn’t work out, they wouldn’t believe me.
heaven is over now. the party got shut down. the amphitheater is empty. the bars deserted. usually so full of life but now; deathly silent. but they’re waiting.
someone asked me today what made me feel the most alive. and through tears i told them it was you.
i yell at my mother with her same ruthlessness and out-argue my father with his same logic.
i feel new. and fresh. and pure. and god it feels fleeting.
another valentine’s day without you is another year of melancholy.
cold air hits my lungs and i finally feel alive again.
(don’t worry it’s already happening)
i’ve finally figured out what makes my life meaningful. it’s the color of leaves right before they fall, the quiet bliss after a friend leaves, the cool rain falling on my skin as i dance, the warmth of the sun wrapping around my body, and the feeling when a plane just takes off and you feel weightless. these are the things that i live for between grief and love and acceptance.