#apdb

[jessicahaleyyo]

He had another girl sitting in the front seat of his car. I heard her voice this time: heard the way she pronounced his name. I didn't like it. I don't like any of it. It is that thing I wish I did not have to comprehend: that seat that was mine once. Now it is a sign of friendship and something I wish would burn. It is the seat I do not want anymore: I am no longer the girl that sits there. Literally. Figuratively.

APDB part Fifty-three

[jessicahaleyyo]

It's like everyone around you is a star while you're a supernova but you're sitting here feeling like shit because you're different from everyone else.

something my boyfriend said that hit where it hurts

[jessicahaleyyo]

I could never be this in love again

[jessicahaleyyo]

I want to be the smokey-haze you wander through during your first party of your freshman year of college, the burning trail down your throat. You’re going to be offered a joint by some druggie in your film class, denying it because not a thing gets you as high as our lips feverishly on each other. When the distance between your second first time closes in, you will pause, hesitate, because her nails are orange, my least favorite color. You’re the hero in your psychology class. The girl who sits behind you had a panic attack, you soothed her breaths, slowed her down, rubbed circles where they needed to be placed, only because you’ve dealt with that hundreds of times before. I’ll never be the same either, always waiting for your voice to chime in when our song comes on, always searching for callouses on other smooth hands. We’ll end. But we’ll find each other somewhere. Sometimes our wavelengths will collide again.

APDB pt fifty-something

[jessicahaleyyo]

I wanted the type of love that was 4 am texts, “I’m thinking of you” or “the world is not alive without you”. I wanted the love with rooftop daydreams and smoke exhaling lungs, hand in my back pocket, an unspoken agreement. I wanted the type of love that relaxed tense shoulders, reshaped memories. A love that took my waist and pulled me in, pulled at my hair, left marks. Instead I collided into the sun - caught myself on fire - tasted stars. Found a way to build sand castles in deserts, love myself in my sleep. Unearthed a love that fumbled with hot fingertips on cool skin, a love that radiated, could be felt despite skin and bones and muscle and nerves, despite touch. Love that beget the very soil, love that had no intention to drink from the water it was led to but did and grew and collapsed and wrote itself into books, love that wished upon itself and shot across the sky love that became a different word. Home.

APDB pt 50

[jessicahaleyyo]

The sunset resembled a watercolor of blues and oranges; he told me that the color orange was born from the sky, specifically sunsets, and that no photographer could ever truly portray it. he did, however, make the jurisdiction that such a sky could be the masterpiece of a writer. in the vocalization of his beliefs, he lacked to account for the way his eyes looked as oncoming headlights pierced them: in them, I saw a sunset. in the way he puckered his lips while making a decision, I saw a sunset. In the way he tucked me in at night, I saw a sunset. it is what I see when he traces his nails idly on my back. it is what I see every time he places a kiss on my nose. everytime he asks me to run my hands over his hard stomach. to see a sunset is to be in love. he is the object of every photographer's fascination, and despite his claims, no photographer nor writer are able to convey either.

Austin and I found this in my notes and he told me to post it. APDB pt 47

[jessicahaleyyo]

*austin sneezes* "Bless you." - me "It's ok, I love you, you're beautiful." - him "What." - me "I don't know why I said that." - him