remembering.

sometimes in the middle of washing dishes i look up and wonder if i’d ever see you crossing that road. or if the knock on the door is you. i wonder sometimes if i could call you and place my words and stories in you, that i could tell you that sometimes i get so tired of trying. i’d like to cuddle up with you again and forget the world exists. i’d like to collapse in your arms. i miss you.

i miss you like hell.

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