|| Noun || I just want to feel your hand holding mine, your hugs enveloping me, your scent taking my breath away. I just want to sit with you at 2 am in the morning, when the streets are deserted and the world is fast asleep, talking about your problems, your habits, what you ate… Continue reading Nostalgia


Letter, page 5

Hearts Aren't Just For Beating

11/2/2014 11:39PM

I recall no time or place or anything aside from where you stood in front of me — I remember no action or words or anything aside from my shortness of breath and my heart beating its escape out of my chest. The tilt of my head must have been due to the awe of my sight and the blur of your face must have been the dizziness behind not believing my eyes. There you stood in your beauty and your grace looking to me in that white and gray haze, but my memory is beginning to fade with every moment I can’t look at your face. I wish I could relive that blurry and motionless place just to feel another moment of such euphoria even if it may be only in sleep. You’ll have to forgive me when we meet because my eyes will not quit until…

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