I wrote you a song it’s called “stop talking to me”
If I could love you at 2 A.M. with shaky breaths and wobbling knees and drunken words that neither of us will recall in the morning,
then i can love you at 12 P.M. with lazy smiles and ‘oh god what have we done’s and rushed apologies as you scramble to find your clothes.
And I can love you the following evening with polite texts and and ‘when will i see you again’s and long naps wrapped up in the sweater you left.
I can love you through salted tears in the midst of a nervous break down when you’ve had one of those nights and I can love you with timid smiles as I meet your mother.
I can love you with sleepy kisses and car rides to nowhere and store bought meals because neither of us know how to cook.
I can love you until the world gets sick of us and turns us to stardust. And you can keep loving him until your lungs give out and your lips turn blue."
constantly torn between “if it’s meant to be, it will be” and “if you want it, go get it”