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lost_loveletterx3
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Name: kristen h
Interests: As I take this piece of you with me I'll carry to my grave.
I just want answers to things left unsaid and to questions my mind can not put to words. L&M 100's. Brand New. RVA. European history. Forgetful.
finding peace. of mind and soul.
Expertise: timeless doubt
Message: message me
Member Since:
5/11/2006
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| “it's colder than hell (yes) but
the blankets are thin,
and the pulled-down shades
are as full of holes as love is.”
-charles bukowski | | |
| got a new job, so now i have two. and i have to move out of my apartment in less than two weeks and haven't figured out where i'm going yet. yay. life.
fuck everything.
today has just been shitty.
i think of going to see you at work like i use to and you would take a cigarette break and we would sit in my car and smoke a bowl and you would tell me you loved me as you were leaving. i fucked up everything. i think of coming and seeing you for the first time in 3 months and apologizing and maybe getting some sort of closure and then my heart starts palpitating and i can hear my heartbeat in my head. i miss you. i shouldn't, i do. i do i do.
life sucks right now.
i love my boyfriend. i do. what the fuck is wrong with me.
im sad.
i want to stop being sad.
someday,
someday
what if
what if | | |
| "It's been at least another year, and still I haven't got the chance to say. Always rolling off the tongue, never said but nearly sung about a million ways. Every photograph and story trickled through the lengthy web of friends, I overthought but understood, distant looks but looking good and not the other way. But you, fail to remember. You fail to remember. Do I still cross your mind? Your face still distorts the time. With heat struck afternoons long through, those idle dreams go back to you. The echo seems so low displaced, everything that's not your face, I'm drifting off to... Broken infiltration that was made of constellations that I saw, was this only in my head? Just like most things go misread when overthought." | | |
| sad, unable to fall asleep, hopeless, haunted, angry
i hate the memories of you that encircle my head like a vulture
my heart is almost dead by now, i guess that's what they are waiting for
it's not fair
it's just not fucking fair
how could you do this to me? to us?
was it worth it?
regret | | |
| “He nearly called you again last night. Can you imagine that, after all this time? He can. He imagines calling you or running into you by chance. Depending on the weather, he imagines you in one of those cotton dresses of yours with flowers on it or in faded blue jeans and a thick woolen button-up cardigan over a checked shirt, drinking coffee from a mug, looking at a book of poetry while it rains. He thinks of you with your hair tied back and that characteristic sweet scent on your neck. He imagines you this way when he is on the train, in the supermarket, at his parents’ house, at night, alone, and when he is with a woman. He is wrong, though. You didn’t read poetry at all. He had wanted you to read poetry, but you didn’t. If pressed, he confesses to an imprecise recollection of what it was you read and, anyway, it wasn’t your reading that started this. It was the laughter, the carefree laughter, the three-dimensional Coca-Cola advertisement that you were, the try-anything-once friends, the imperiousness to all that came before you, the chain telephone calls, the in-jokes, the instant music, the sunlight you carried with you, the way he felt when you spoke to his parents, the introductory undergraduate courses, the inevitability of your success, the beach houses, the white lace underwear, the private dancing, the good-graced acceptance of part-time shift work, the apparent absence of expectations, the ever-changing disposable cults of the rural, the family, the eastern, the classical, the modern, the postmodern, the impoverished, the sleekly deregulated, the orgasm, the feminine, the feminist, and then the way you canceled with the air of one making a salad.”
-Elliot Perlman, Seven Types of Ambiguity.
thx bai.
wow. just wow. | | |
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