It’s one thing when people don’t have hope in you, it’s a whole different story in a separate dimension when your parents don’t have hope in the things you do.

From now on, I will strictly do me. Fuck what other people think, they just don’t know.

There’s so much the world has to offer, and I vow not to let emotions get in the way of exploring. What are the chances of me and a significant other getting married? Probably very low. If whoever I meet is “the one” they’ll do anything to live up to my hectic life. Like all the advice I receive from older friends, do not settle for less.

I wonder if you secretly miss me, even just a bit and tell your friends about how much you do so. I wonder if you’ve even attempted to reach me at all. I wonder why I didn’t put our friendship first rather than our relationship. I wonder if you ever check up on me or if I was even special. I wonder if you lay in bed thinking about me in the cleanest way possible as I do you.

But then again I wonder myself why you still come off to me as amazing twhen really you’re an ordinary person.

(Source: averyantonio, via mostprominent)

Am I allowed to just miss you? Without any reasoning or explanation. I miss you. Nothing else. I wish I could tell you so and you would understand without added detail. How much do you miss me? What do you want to do about it? So you want to get back together? No, I refuse to answer, I just miss you, no questions. Nothing more, nothing less.

It’s really lovely to know that you still occasionally think of me. Err maybe occasionally is a bit of an overstatement.

…sometimes?
…hardly?
…rarely?

K fine, second to none.

You know that feeling when you’re amidst nobody while intoxicated, and your whole body is somewhat numb. That phase right before knocking out. It’s like nothing negative exists, erm something like that. And like you focus on one physical object and everything around it slowly fades away. 

I love this feeling, I’m like in my own zone.

I’ve concluded that the main reason why you continue to come across my mind at the most random times of day is the lack of closure I received when we parted ways. Neither of us had any last words what so ever, I can’t even recall the last thing I said to you, or you said me, or what the conversation was about. And I’m hardly sure of the exact month or date we decided to shut each other out of our lives. 

Had we told each other how we felt and then part ways, I would have been fine with that. Not a single Thank you was mentioned. But I’ve managed.

I never understood how certain people have the tolerance to live/grow up in one city or one state their whole lives. Then again those same people don’t know what’s out there, so I guess they can’t complain about not seeing something they haven’t experienced. 

Maybe it’s a traveler thing.

The one thing I hate more than waking up in the afternoon, sleeping through the sun’s Hello, and missing the birds beautiful songs, is remaining indoors while adventure exists.

I cheated on the bonded pages of ink with waterfall jumps, star gazing, and waterfalls. I let the summer wind blow through my thick hair and left the sharp corner of pages gliding against my finger tips on the shelf. I lost myself within the trees of that one forest we attempted to explore instead of within fictional characters and their fictional heartaches　.

Putting the books down, hello adventure.

If I could live it all over again I would, and not change a single damn thing. The meeting you, the summer nights we spent, the unsureness, the yelling, the recovery…it’s all a lesson worth experiencing.

Oh how lucky I was to have even been in your beautiful thoughts at one point in time.