And I’m replaying it all in my head, every night. Every night. You had a look on your face like you were always staring at a sunrise, always finding beauty in a fresh start. Maybe that’s why when you left you didn’t look back. Maybe that’s why I’m staying up thinking of you when I know you’re not thinking of me. Maybe I care about you more now than I did when I had you. Maybe we were too young, these wounds too fresh, these notions too new to make them into something bigger than ourselves.
o.r.e. //these kind of new experiences don’t always work out, do they?


















