sea w

4.0 | acid wash jeans (the8)

a late summer, late night bonfire by the sea

w.c. 708 | fluff | listen

the bonfire was dug into the sand, secured and safe from the sea breeze.  the red and orange and yellow bits of flame crackled off and rose into the air, disappearing after a while.  the smell of fire filled the area, mixed with the sharp contrast of salty seawater.  stars hung low in the sky, side by side with the full moon.  heat rose up from the white sand but the chill of the ocean waves and winds were quick to temper the warmth down.  messy platinum locks shoved into a beanie.  your head on his shoulder, his head on yours.  one hand interlaced with the other’s.

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Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Looking back, I can’t remember the truth. I blew everything out of proportion so I could feel the hurt and betrayal and write about it in vivid detail. It was my own method of torture. My own undoing; and I enjoyed every second of it.
—  c.j.n.