i ' v e f o u n d Y O U.

ineedahug.
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ABOUT {what i've}
I'm a girl who believes in never giving up, in eighth and ninth chances and probably chances into the double digits. I bruise easily, I over analyze everything that happens and does not happen to me. I forgive but I promise you, I won't forget. My heart is full of desires. Sometimes sad. Stronger after it's been broken. I enjoy thrifting successfully, boozing happily, photographing randomly and laughing unstoppably.

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Friday, September 4, 2009

BACK TO YOU? 10:15 PM

289: the number of times John Mayer's Dreaming With a Broken Heart played on my iTunes in the first month its lyrics caught truth with you. I breathed every word of that song for weeks after, hoping its relativity would set me free once the tears stopped. For months, I couldn't listen to a single John Mayer song without breaking down because of how close to the heart every word hit. Our love was comfortable and so broken in... Though we both know that the worst part about it is I would be free when you wanted me... When you're dreaming with a broken heart, the giving up is the hardest part. Although I tried so hard to forget, every lyric always reminded me of our once perfect love.

I relive your words every day, trying to sort through your unspeakable thoughts to help comfort my unsettling heart. I can't say I trust you; I really don't know if I could ever trust you the same way I used to, but your efforts at mending things fall short of anything rekindling. I hate that you rarely call, or that you so often indulge yourself in late-night parties or even that you still drink frequently. I hate thinking about all the things that should have and shouldn't have happened in the past five months or what you did in place of them. I hate that you never talk about your feelings, but your short, though rare, fragments of emotions are just enough to convince me that we're still worth a risk.

What I love though, and what I will always love, is that you still surprise me at my window til this very day. The way you always find yourself returning to me through time is the same way I always find a way to fall in love with you all over again when you do. It's as if a month's worth of abandoned afterthoughts and emotional epilogues steadily comes undone with every remarkable visit from you. Truth is, my heart still drops every time I hear you knocking on my window - excited to finally see you again, nervous about your new intentions, fearful if you'll still be here in the morning.

But that's the worst part about this: I'll never know if you'll still be here in the morning.

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