10 Feb

… are what I’m walking on. Butterflies seem to have nested inside me. I’m falling, and I’m falling fast. But as usual, my timing could have been better. The only solution is not to think about what comes after tomorrow. To try and forget about anything but today. Cause what will happen when I go home and he stays here? How can these few moments be anything strong enough to build upon? I have no idea. It doesn’t even seem to be happening to me. It’s as if I’m watching my own life from afar, as if what I’ve thought about so many times finally seems to happen to another version of myself. I almost didn’t believe anymore that it existed. But it does.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: