i wrote about you the other night and forgot to hit save. it was 4 am and i couldnt sleep, so i got up and turned on my light and wrote until sunrise. i forgot to hit save and those words are ghosts now.
it was too hot in my room but there was a slight breeze by the window and i was greeted by a feeling i rarely meet anymore. it was the curiousity of nostalgia and wondering if anything really ever comes back or if all of my waiting will only always be just that.
what really got me up though, was the overwhelming memory of when you were around the corner. walking to your house in the cold dark even though it wasnt much after 6 pm. calling you from outside, walking in cold and pink cheeks straight in to your new yet familiar, comfortable arms.
