prettygirlssellvegetables

Hey dragonfly. I fucking miss you. I wish I didn’t. But I do. I wish I could right you off and forget you ever existed. Or at the very least remember how bad it was when you were around. But I can’t. All I can do is keep putting one foot in front of the other and hope that I’m heading away from you. Hope that one day I will look up from my footsteps and you won’t be there. But there is still a part of me that wishes you were still here. A sick twisted part of my heart that still aches for you. For your crooked smile and your one line joke. I want to tell you I love you and I need you. But I won’t. I’m just going to keep on walking with my head down.

It’s funny coming back to the place where you are from. After you have been gone for a while everything looks different. The things I missed while I was gone don’t seem to hold weight anymore. The things that nearly bring me to tears are not the things I expected. The beauty in this place is no longer held in its people but in its things. I never knew how much I loved the old gothic architecture. The beautiful cathedral style churches covered with ivy vines threatening to take over completely. The way the sun reflects off the mirrored glass sky scrapers sending light dancing across the brownstone houses. The way the leafless tree branches curve in tortured twists against the light grey sky. The way the air feels just before it snows. These are the things that make it feel like home to me. These are the little details of my home that I could never put into words before.

Sitting at the worn wooden tables on the sand outside the typical american grungy little sports bar surrounded by palm trees. The air was sweet and salty from the breeze gently blowing from the ocean. My face was nearly rubbed raw from the stubble you so carelessly leave scruffy. The conflicting sounds of the bands and DJs at all the little bars along the beach competing for the very few tourists made conversation difficult. But neither of us are big on small talk anyways. You smiled at me and the way your skin got all crinkly around the edges of your deep dark eyes was starting to become familiar. I sheepishly admitted I was looking to get very little sleep and you told me that could be arranged. We walked down the beach to your house, I knew this walk now, and you lead me up the stairs. You told me your maid hadnt come back since that day she came in and we were sleeping naked on top of your sheets, too tired to crawl under them. Our bodies just fit together. They worked in unison moving with each other. Your trembling fingers dragging lightly across my skin sent chills through my body. You asked me what time I was flying home and I unthinkingly responded thats not my home anymore. I dont want to leave this place. I want to hide out here with you in bed and feel the warm rays of brilliant caribbean sun beat down on me through your big picture windows. This isnt love. I am not quite sure what it is. But it draws me here. Keeps my attention. I lean down so close my lips are nearly touching your ear. My promise is just a whisper “I will be back soon”. You roll over groggily and touch your lips lightly to mine and whisper back “Oh yeah you’ve got a plane to catch”

Don’t drink and drive-and don’t ride with anybody who does. Tipsy Tow offered by AAA: you don’t have to be a AAA member, from 6pm-6am on New Years Eve/day, they will take your drunk self and your car home for FREE. Save this number… 1-800-222-4357. Please reblog this if you don’t mind.

(Source: fauxxe, via icantbelieveitsnotbutthurt)