Dearest, there are no accidents...

...and everything comes full circle. Elena | 28 | México Music, soccer, food, movies, crime shows, computers, driving, vinyls, pizza, traveling, guitars, books... ask | my stuff

[thefostersseries]

[poppyflowerpoetry]

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed. She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to. She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three. Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap. Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her. You say: I dated her a while back. You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume. You say: She was younger than me. You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered. You say: It’s nothing now. You don’t say: But it was everything then.

Some things are better left unsaid.

[its-saxy]

[cynema]

[creamfights]

[whitnewell]

[threadless]

[winterfellis]

[sbraidley-deactivated20180601]

[elenamore-blog]

what i had to do today: lots of stuff

what i did today: nothing

how i feel: guilty

does this feeling make me wanna do something: no

[pingvinsstuff]

[onlytwitterpics]

[migratingapple-deactivated20190]

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[elenamore-blog]

Those notes you’ve wrote me, I’ve kept them all. I’ve given a lot of thought of how to write you back this fall. With every single letter in every single word there will be a hidden message about a boy that loves a girl.

[themrsandmrsblog]

[thejenalive]

[ingelnook]

[audreymarshall]