You were the moon, I was the sun. You only glowed bright, because of the light I shone. --n.t
I loved you. Not because you were the only one to break down my walls,
but because you were the only one who understood that these walls were my foundation.
These walls were not meant to be torn down, but embraced.
Each stone was precious, each with it’s own story.
she will make you think she took your breath away. you'll open your eyes to see her pulling you deeper, drowning you in her own sorrows. -n.t
Because I didn’t know that the same flame that warmed my heart, could also burn my soul. I flicked the match, but you were the forest fire devouring everything in it’s path.
and you were the hardest goodbye, because you had the softest lips.
why didn’t I post you?—
As of lunchtime August 13,2016 I will be 22 years old. A twenty something where the second number doesn’t really matter anymore because what more advantages do I get by being one year older? Last year I became legal in the states, 19 is legal in Canada. So I’ve decided 22 is the year I make my own checkpoints. This is difficult because I could think of so many things I’d like to accomplish, yet some things are vague and not as tangible as donating blood or making sandwiches for the less fortunate.
22 is the year I will stop blaming myself.
22 is the year I make my bed.. Most of the time.
22 is the year I learn to cope with stress in healthier ways than allowing my body to break down.
22 is the year I forgive people, genuinely forgive.
22 is the year I get inspired and inspire.
22 is the year that I realize I don’t have to figure my life out all at once.
22 is the year I suck the life out of life
22 is the year I indulge in all the experiences I can
22 is is the year I read and read and read
22 is the year I will let go of the memories that cause me misery
22 is the year I try different hobbies, even if I end up hating all of them
22 is the year I push my self harder than ever before
22 is the year I realize that I am allowed to have days I want to stay in bed
22 is the year I do not take the small things for granted, even the smell of coffee in the morning
22 is the year I stop crying about what could have been
22 is the year I refuse to settle
22 is the year I put myself first
22 is the year I learn to cook a new meal
22 is the year I do not let romantic relationships steal the spotlight
22 is the year I learn that my ideas, perceptions and thoughts do not have to be agreed upon by everyone
22 is the year I learn to voice those opinions
22 is my year.
You were like a puzzle piece that didn’t click
I damaged your edges
In attempts to make it fit
But I kept trying, with no luck
All that effort,
And nothing stuck
But it made me realize something
Of that I am sure,
We were not matching pieces
Not even part of the same picture