I Love January 1st.. The Girls Are Back From The Club. And They Are Safe In Their Beds, Asleep

i love january 1st.. the girls are back from the club. and they are safe in their beds, asleep

Out of thin air, in the most uncommon of times - I think about you. I think about spending my hours doing mundane things with you. I imagine watching movies except you look at the screen and I, at you. I draw circles on you palms and I take in the air of things that surround us. We're cozied up in a couch in a September evening and the sun slowly dampens; brownish orange curtains all drawn and the brown of the outside permeates leaving an impression. And I-, I still look at you. And I tell you where we've seen the actors before and the little gestures of the love interests make you look at me as we remember how you did the same once. And with you, I feel full, as if no harm could ravage this bond; that time takes a break at this moment and all I have is you and I feel oh! so full like I doubt a mortal ever would; the world matters next to nothing and in this moment I have everything for I have you beside me, loving me just as I have you.

And I come out of it and I realize that it was but a figment of my imagination. In a matter of moments I lose you, I lose it all; and you become a memory that never happened. I feel empty like I doubt a mortal ever would.

notbrightenoughforthat

I like love stories.

Eulogies of love that existed once; a merry-making of our limited time on earth as mortals that often feel intensely.

There are so many kinds of love. Most of the love stories end in tragedy and tragedy does not mean the death of a person; often times it's the death of love at the hands of duty, convenience, and sometimes, just life. But the remnants remain ever so long as time does. You take it to the grave and to the afterlife, and even to the next life if it exists and maybe that is why you are haunted by memories you do not remember; nostalgia of a place you've never set your foot upon; a tune you've encountered for the very first time and yet tears trickle down your cheeks, and oft you wonder why you feel so immensely.

"You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are consumed, you sit among the ruins and lament the fall."

- Robert Walton

Frankenstein or, The Modern Prometheus

One sitting outside the door while conversing on the phone while the other doesn't know of this is something I love sO much foran inexplicable reason. I feel it's just the fact that he's so close to you and yet something separates you; the fact that you are overwhelmed and maybe afraid for you know not what this close future holds. I dunno boy I just love it. I'd open the door and crumble into his embrace and sob incessantly but that's dramatic maybe [I'd do it nonetheless idc bitches]

♡♡♡♡♡

He’s been sitting outside the door for the past 20 minutes WHY IS HE SO FUCKING PERFECT AHHHH

He isn’t perfect. He literally could have said all this years ago 😂 or at least said she was pretty

Of lost chances, forbidden love and remorse.

It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

Films in frame: Past lives, La la land, Fleabag, Normal People, In the mood for love, Atonement, Potrait of a lady on fire, Maurice, Blue Valentine, Her