Five hours left and we’ll be entering a new chapter. A new story to be unfold.
This year has been a difficult one for both of us; misunderstandings, yellings, curses, and emotional breakdowns.
You’ve been too far away from me and all I ever want to do is to hold you closer.
We’ll cuddle beside the clock, we’ll wait for it to strike at 12 and together anticipate the same fireworks we’ve been watching for the past years.
Together, we’ll paint our 2011 sky and kiss those hopeless 2010 memories goodbye.
(img via jandp)
On our backs we’ll lie, our eyes sit on the skies. We’ll watch how these clouds transform into various shapes and forms our mind wants to perceive.
What’s behind those silver lining? Reverie. There is more beyond this view, a scenery with a reflection of me through you. A never-ending story of a boy meets girl.
In your eyes I see myself drifting off. A blink of an eye and alone I lie staring at nothingness. Spacing out.
Daydreaming.
She was just a daydream at all.
(img via jandp)
I woke up realizing she was not beside me. I scanned the room in search of her. I ran down stairs rushed to the kitchen hoping she was there preparing our breakfast.
I hurried to the shore to found out she was just there, staring blankly into the crashing waves of cerulean-colored sea.
I gazed at her wondering whether the argument last night still lingers in her mind. I asked, but she gave no response and headed back to our house.
I remained from where I am standing eyeing on her as she walked with her head down and the wind blowing her hair. I hope we’ll be okay.
(img via nikolinelr)
Holding your hand in so many ways was one of a few lovely memories I can remember instantly. It didn’t matter to me whether our hands got sweaty and all, I’d just stick a handkerchief in the middle.
It didn’t matter to us whether a person is blocking or walking towards our way, we’d just raise both our hands in a playful manner and let them pass underneath it.
It didn’t matter to you whether I’m playing with your hands; holding them in any kind of way, you’d just hold them back the way you want to hold it. Pinky-promise hold.
(img via jandp)
Saturday morning. The taste of beer and vodka that we drowned ourselves last night still lingers in my mouth. With eyes closed, I turned myself over to the right side of our bed. My eyes took a glimpse of her as they lazily open their lids.
Her brown highlights that ran down through her hair shined as if a pair of spotlights were focused down to her. She squinted to see what made her woke up.
I sensed that she also had that aftertaste of liquor from the way she smiled. I moved closer and kissed her. Not minding any of that alcohol taste, she kissed back. Holding her nape, I brushed my fingers that are still with remains of a cigarette smell through her lustrous morning hair.
Her sweet passionate kiss was all I ever needed that morning. And her that I will always hold on to.
I would not like it to happen if one day I’ll turn myself over towards her side and all I’ll ever see is a pillow and a blank space.
(img via savedbygrace)
I was cleaning the attic one afternoon. It was all dusty, cobweb-filled and old. What was left of my teenage memories were all piled up in gloom.
As I moved along, I stumbled on a box; it was familiar and thought that if I would open it I’ll remember what it was for.
It was full of pictures with the girl I used to love. I brought myself to a pause just staring to that only photo of what was a joy to look at.
I was thinking of her smile. The smile that what I thought would never change. Her heart, the feelings that I thought would never fade.
I was pondering, what would it be like if her smile and her heart were still the same?
I dawdled and pondered a little more.
(img via bigohbigpride)
The vast amount of tears brought about by the nimbus consumed my emotions as I remembered how we used to kiss under the rain.
(img by henrikla)
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