escaping thoughts

3 AM on a Tuesday and instead of sleep, my heart demands more whiskey.
I am trying to erase this ghost of a feeling that wants nothing but to remember you at all times.
My ears long to hear your voice but I’ve already burned the bridge.
My Darling, I’m sorry I ended up being nothing like the person I promised you I would be.
I’m filled to the brim with guilt for not sticking by you as long as you would’ve let me.
You see, I’m not like the people who walk this earth only to love and love with all of their being and ask for nothing in return.
I still try to find constellations in your eyes and look for you in places even though I do not want to look at the love that I loved so dearly looking into the eyes of someone they call ‘home’.
You’ve occupied a lot of space in my heart and there’s nothing I could ever say or do to fall out of love with you but I hope, years from now, your name does not fill me with guilt but with sweet nostalgia that reminds me of a love that taught me how to live. A love that looked at all my scars and all my flaws but still chose to love me. A love that made sure I wasn’t fighting my battles alone. A love that held my hand in all my struggles and told me that there’s nothing in this world I couldn’t do. And most importantly, I hope, years from now, you forgive me.
But it’s 3 AM on a Tuesday and instead of sleep, my heart demands to forget you.
—  I tried so hard not to make this about you but you’re stuck in my head like a catchy beat on repeat. // Astha (via uponthisearth)
Our love was poetic.
Beautiful and perfect.
It was something to envy.
We were so happy.
Laughing and smiling all the time.
But then, darling, we fell apart.
We tore each other like we were never each other’s worlds.
Then I realized, darling.
Maybe our love wasn’t poetic at all.
—  just—escape, (not so poetic) Poetic Love