I Express, I Reblog, I Agree.
Even though it wasn’t a long friendship, it’s the smallest moments that hurts us the most, isn’t it.
I guess I’m thankful I didn’t change my shift to work with you. I guess I found no point in doing so when you won’t appreciate.
HAHAHAHA. I like to think of these kind of things during work for weird reasons. I’m still wondering what’s her reason for bringing cup noodles. Is it because ky told her so? Or she volunteeringly do it?
It stays as a mystery.
But the fact that she detours means that there is something. Maybe they have been staying in contact.
Maybe he is her closest friend.
Maybe. Just maybe.
Maybe I’m just dwelling on the fact that it is her, and not anyone else.
The next time I work with her may be 3 months later. Haha. And to me that won’t matter anymore.
What matters most is the question that I have been asking myself
“Are we still friends?”
Maybe we won’t be close anymore
But I guess at this stage, all I want to know is that if you are okay in your stage of life right now.
HAHAHAHA. I guess I don’t wanna think about it anymore.
Somehow God told me that I will see her today, though I didn’t know how that was possible. Because she’ll never switch shifts for my sake. Haha. She’s not that kind.
Time to get back to work! No use swarming myself in the memories that will never happen and do more harm than good.
I’ll just pretend I only know her at a very surface level :)
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.