Film. Waves. Leaves

When questioning ends we have done something wrong. Love art, film, literature.
Queer, Feminist, Vegan, POC .

I found myself in a strange place today. On a street that I have choose to ignore for the past four years of my life. But today, I was there stranded, waiting for the tow truck to get my broken car and take it to my mother’s house. 

As I sat in my car staring out at the street. The memories of a disillusioned boy rushed in my head, the nights I’d spend outside this street with my bike, overcoming my fear of spiders, longing to be invited inside, sweating from riding over in 90 degree weather. 

I thought of how young I was, how full of hope I had been.

Then I remembered the heartbreak I endured, the increase of my insecurities. 

My eyes began to water, I felt like an idiot. Not for those memories, but for how each moment after that I had fallen into the same routine. Falling over a boy who would never see me, the way I saw him. 

I swore I was over it, and I realize now more than ever that I am. Now, the only thing is that I continue, countless times, to let my heart desire for what it can’t have. How that has broken me in millions of pieces. Numbing me completely, from everyone, losing grip of all the relationships around me. 

A friend told me recently that she felt like she needed no one else, because she had all the people she needed. When I heard that, all I wanted to do was cry, but I haven’t cried in so long. I thought to myself, I wish I felt the same way. 

Here still lost, and soon to be forgotten.

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