maybe in ten years we will be at least 5 years over and have gone through at least 2 other lovers since. maybe you won’t think of me again until you’re craving a hike in a forest on early Sunday morning and the brunette in your bed would much rather sleep in. maybe I’ll think of you while my lover is at work, when I’m sitting on my bed, surrounded by things that only say “I’m sorry I don’t pay enough attention to you”. maybe when I wake up from a dream of violence, I’ll think of your hand as my new lover clutches mine. maybe you’ll be awake still, laying in your bed, reminding yourself you need to be with someone like me, even if it isn’t me.
—  (R.H)