Writer's Block: Love Is...
The night is lit with the twinkle of the city lights. The wind that enters my apartment's window is cool, and surprisingly full of promise and possibilities. Late into the night and once again, I am alone. But as always, I am at peace. It's not often that I can allow myself to reflect, to think about my life, where it's going or where I've been.
It still feels like you're a million miles away... from me, from the boy you used to be, from what we had, whatever it was. It feels like just yesterday that I let you in and showed you how vulnerable I truly was. No facade, just brutal honesty. Maybe it was too brutal. There are wounds that never quite healed right, and you unwittingly added another one to my collection. My skin still feels like it's been rubbed raw.
But tonight, though I am alone, I feel more alive than ever. The night that is, and the city, does not demand of me what I cannot do and what I cannot be. And no matter how broken we are, it will stay the same: lit, alive and full of enormous possibilities.
It still feels like you're a million miles away... from me, from the boy you used to be, from what we had, whatever it was. It feels like just yesterday that I let you in and showed you how vulnerable I truly was. No facade, just brutal honesty. Maybe it was too brutal. There are wounds that never quite healed right, and you unwittingly added another one to my collection. My skin still feels like it's been rubbed raw.
But tonight, though I am alone, I feel more alive than ever. The night that is, and the city, does not demand of me what I cannot do and what I cannot be. And no matter how broken we are, it will stay the same: lit, alive and full of enormous possibilities.