Latest Posts by aimer-toujours - Page 2

It’s easy to see now, you were begging me to love you and I was teaching you to unlove me…

“I feel myself getting bad again”

— J.I. // a six word story

I’ve learned now that there is no getting over you. There’s living with your memory or being haunted by it. I’ve let years go by with you stuck to my back like a tumor I couldn’t rid. But that isn’t what you are. You’re a piece of me. A piece that I protected so dearly I lost sight of the reasons I protected it. I’ve learned that every single person I’ve ever loved I’ve written their names on pieces of me to remember forever. I wrote those names down and treated them as if they were punishment. But it isn’t and it never was. I’ve been lucky enough to know what love feels like in so many different ways. I’ve forgiven every heart break except for yours. I’m sorry I’m still working on it, but then again you don’t want my forgiveness anymore. You’ve found happiness in such a familiar place it actually took the breath out of my lungs when I saw it. I can’t deny that it felt like you punched me in the face, but I left you to find happiness else where, how can I be mad that you did ? You don’t read these words anymore. I don’t blame you for not. But I feel like you’ve always been a safe place to put feelings I don’t quit understand. I’m trying to find the writer you once loved, this time without you. She’s only ever come out for you to see, so I will learn to move on in the same place I fell in love, writing to a ghost that has never been on the same page as me. Because here those feelings can live forever without having to feel like their clawing at my ribs. Here I can release them to be finally free of.

Sometimes I forget that you used to write about me. I forget that you loved me with the same fire that burned inside of me. I let my pain make me forget. I let my pain replace the patience and forgiveness that we once had for one another and the pure belief that you meant what you did. But your words and actions said you knew it was a mistake, I just wouldn’t let myself hear it. Until it was too late. Until we became the strangers we promised we’d never be. I forget you used to write about me, maybe that’s why a piece of my heart will be forever intertwined with the words on your tongue.

I’m sorry. I am so sorry I let the darkness take over. I was the problem all along. I told you how much I fought loving you, it seems like it was all I knew to write for a while. But it seems like no matter how hard you tried I was never ready to stop fighting. For us. Against us. I think the fire burned too hot to ever find comfort in. But if I’m being honest the memory of what we called the future still lives in a house in the back of my mind. Sometimes I step inside and I can hear the laughter over the music. I can feel a warmth of happiness wash over me. It could’ve been real. But I always lock the door as I leave, keeping that happiness right where I found it. Because I’ll never be able to touch it again, not without thousands of pieces of glass shattering all around me. Not without hearts being ripped from chests. Not with any certainty that that happiness has a home outside of my mind.

If I could do it all again … I would’ve loved you sooner. And I would’ve stopped fighting against us. I would’ve given you what you needed without the fear living in my stomach. I would’ve slapped you that night. And then I would have kissed you. We would’ve been infinite.

Je t'aime à la lune et retour ours en peluche.Quand mes yeux ouverts dans la matinée tout ce qu'ils veulent, c'est de vous voir

Every once in a while, I break my own heart to let the memory of you wash over me for just a few moments. The feeling of being loved by you was the most amazing and terrifying feeling in the world and for some reason, I can never let it go.

I let myself forget you, but never long enough for it to stick. Your smell. Your lips. The look on your face or the sound of your tired voice on the phone. It’s never too far from my mind, no matter how many times I’ve tried.

No matter time or distance, I can’t write without the thought of you. Reliving the moments of us are the only way for the words to make any sense. I knew you took a piece of me when you left, I guess I never realized it was the part of me that wanted to be a writer. The part of me that could feel my soul spilling out so effortlessly into words to express the feelings I didnt even quite understand. When I live inside of those memories I could make anyone fall in love with a version of you that I write out in hopes to expel these feelings that never seem to go away forever. But when I lock those memories up the words are gone. I wrote so goddamn much about you I don’t think I know how to write about anything else

“I went crazy when I was with you. I can’t let that happen again. Love is not supposed to do that. You made me go mad.”

— Effy Stonem

“We've had problems that we grow through”

I can still see his face as if he was standing here in front of me. The happiness, the sadness, the look that he had when he realized that he always wanted me wrapped in his sweatshirt. He looked at me like i was the answer to all of life's questions. He held me like i was the only thing he'd save in a house fire. And he loved me like there was nothing else that mattered in the world. And he fuckin terrified me, if i wasn't that important to myself how could i matter that much to someone else? Running away never worked because he was always faster than i was. Staying felt like i was being swallowed whole into the belly of his love. So I stayed balanced with one foot planted in the earth and the other flat on the pavement. I think that my uncertainty caused his to hold me a little less tightly, he didn't hold my gaze as long, and he didn't let me stand on his feet when we danced anymore. And that scared me too. It was just as hard to lose him as it was to let him love me.  “are we destined to burn or are we going to last the night?” I didn't realize that the roots that tangled around my ankle ran so deep. Because when he decided to be the one to run I couldn't break free of my purgatory to chase him. I watching his shadow get swallowed by the distance and the wind blew his foot prints right out of my mind. By the time that some one helped break me free he was half way around the world sending postcards from all the places we talked about. They began with the sadness still in his eyes as he stood alone wishing i could be next to him. But I was too slow to catch him, always one step behind with his scent lingering in the air. Eventually the happiness began to creep back into the corners of his mouth as he wrote that he was doing okay and wished the same for me. His final postcard came and she was smiling and holding the hand that used to be mine. His smile was back and he told me I should come for a visit, so i stopped chasing the ghost that i was following around the world.  “I learned in love and death we don't decide”  I returned home hoping that he would come back to visit, if his arms would ever feel empty without me inside them. But then I got wrapped up in the cigarette smoke and the city lights. I tried to dance with all the broken people i could find. But none of them let me stand on their feet and they always wanted me to take the lead. I didn't see him sneak in the side door as I clumsily took control from another . Once I saw his face I stumbled, and as I hit the ground the roots wrapped back around me as if i had never broken free of them. Two hands reached to help me back up. One that grew the root from a seed and the other that wanted to burn down the whole damn forest. And I lie there stuck wanting to let the roots and vines wrap around my entire body, wanting to give the control back, or to run from both until my lungs collapsed. How do you choose between the hand of the devil and the hand of a demon? 

no ones ever let me break my own heart like you did . . .

the diary in my head. 

We were once a collectors wine, now we’re a bottle for $4.99 on sale for half price.

Loving her was never going to be fair you know? 

its like trying to love a hurricane as its ripping through your sheets.

But she wasn’t always like that though.

She used to be the summer breeze as it whispered in your ear.

She was the sand in your shoe reminding you of sunny days on the beach.

Then she fell in love with her own hurricane and she was never quit the same.

He began as the ocean that she slowly let flow across her feet.

But before she knew it she was knee deep in the water, and soon 

she was swimming as far out as she could go. 

She loved the water rolling over her skin. 

Once she was too far out to turn back thats when the clouds began rolling in

The storm forced her under the water until her lungs felt as if they would collapse.

She began to love the burning in her lungs, the desperation for air, the blurred vision. But just as she was about to give in the storm brought her back to the shorelines tattered and bruised. 

She spent days and months on the beach hoping to be taken back out to sea. All she was given was the quiet whispers of the waves coming into shore. She spent her days chasing the storm, and nights in the warmth of others arms. She filled her lungs with cigarette smoke hoping for a moment to recreate the burning sensation and liquor to drown out the emptiness left inside. But she never was quite the same.

Like I said, Youll never forget your first hurricane. 

And now she’s yours.

“part of me is mad that i wrote you into my stories. because i can no longer read them without falling in love, and breaking my heart at the same time. but part of me is so glad i did. because it reminds of how beautiful our love was, even if it destroyed me.”

i still miss you (via baby-imyoursx)

Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they’re even born.

F. Scott Fitzgerald; The Beautiful and Damned (via sunsetquotes)

The words don't come easy anymore.

Peter Pan once told me "never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting"

The more time that passes the more it feels like our sentences really ended with goodbye.

I always thought that we were chapters of the same book. But I'm starting to think I'm a fantasy while you find your home in nonfiction.

The amount of time apart is creeping slowly up to the amount of time spent together, and it terrifies me.

Pretty soon I'll be the lost boy you forgot you tucked into bed.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway.

Sade Andria Zabala, WAR SONGS (via wnq-writers)

i can only feel a thing in the summer, there's nothing left come winter.

when i first met you i thought

“damn that boy puts the sun to shame” I thought that you were this piece that i didnt know i was missing as if my life had been in chaos because you werent in it yet But then it happened.. Moment by moment you began to take pieces of me without me realizing it you took my thoughts, my dreams, and my plans for the future when your shine was no longer blinded me i noticed something was different you told me that you were just fixing the things that you took when you gave them back to me they were no longer the same you gave me back street maps, marked with coffee houses, and vegan restaurants along the roads i would take to the job you picked out for me your sparkle was still in the corner of my eye so i thought that you were helping me, for a while there i thought that i wanted those things. But then the days began to get cloudy, you could never tell me when youd be coming home once i moved across the world to be with you. I was left to my own devices in a room that didnt feel at all like mine. At first i would grab my umbrella and walk to the coffee shop before i headed off to work and at lunch would try out the new vegan place down the street. But after one too many cloudy days i realized that the coffee was burnt and i didnt even like tofu, and my boss was a bitch. So i began to make my own sunshine, and boy did it show the cracks that you left me to mend. you’d come back home occasionally to tell me everything was fine, but i could no longer feel any light radiating from you. you were pale and grey, you were actually pretty cold. You slept so peacefully knowing that you weren’t sure where i was or what i was doing but at some point id sneak into bed and id awake with you gone again. You used your light to blind me, so that while i could not see you created someone else, someone that you wanted me to be and convinced me that I wanted to be her too. But without constant upkeep i began to wipe away parts of the girl that I never was. When i began to show you parts of the person I really was you didn’t like her, you began to call her names and say she wasn’t the person you fell in love with. But i don’t think your feet ever left the ground, you were too busy there planting seeds in my mind to tell me you knew what was best. maybe that was my fault for letting it happen, i was much younger than you and you’d never let me forget that. But now years have past and i don’t even recognize the girl you tried to make me become. I saw you walking down the street and you turned the corner at the sight of me. I heard that you had a new girlfriend, one that you’ve been with before i kicked you out of my bed. It makes me want to say sorry to your ex, you villainized her so much when we were together that i thought she was no good. But i am sure that you tell your new girl that I was just the same, that i didn’t deserve your love because while you were at work i was at a party down the street. I am sure that she doesn’t know you were still with me when you first kissed, or that the sweatpants you wear when your sick were mine. I am sure she thinks I’m horrible, and i will admit at times i was, but you cant expect to cage someone in and not have them fight their way back out. I wonder how long it took her to stop starring into your light, for her to see what your real intentions were. I wonder why your light is so blinding, when behind it there’s just a selfish little boy trying to make himself a puppet.