you told me how you keep
waking up with nightmares that cause your fists to clench and your eyes to sting. you said that you don’t know how long they’ll continue and that you’re scared. i nodded and you thought it was because i was sympathetic: but it wasn’t. i’m terrified as well but the nightmares that keep me awake aren’t about ghosts or castles - they’re about you. about knowing that yours will disappear in a month and mine will continue for long after that. they’re about a laugh in the dead of night, a look i can’t get out of my head, and a simple reminder that the only time we have together is when i’m
somewhere between a dream and reality.
it’s difficult to describe how hard i’m trying to stay in my head all the time and not let these emotions and feelings out so that others don’t see them and hear them and feel them tumbling towards them with all the power of a million memories that thrash around and threaten to overwhelm me until i can no longer keep them inside
today i was homesick for the hills and the frosty air and the way my bathroom always smelled like lavender.
you’ve made me realize that if you change yourself enough, you can fit in anywhere
it is in moments like now, when i am flying above the world with only clouds as my compass, that i need you the most. when there are no street signs to help me or landmarks to give away my location, i realize that you are the one that guides me: you have become the arrows that lead me to stray and i know that, in time, you will be the path that leads me home.
missing you makes it hard to leave, but will make it easy to come back
you told me that this was just another test for us so i laced my fingers through yours, folded our hands, and i prayed that we’d pass.