Recently, I’ve been looking for a reason to love life. And then I looked at you.
Sometimes there aren’t enough pieces to put everything back together again.

There comes a time in life when you just have to let go.

You have to accept that wanting can’t sway having and that some people will just let you down.

You have to accept that you tried and you did everything you could. You need to accept that some people just don’t think about unpleasant things and that no matter what, eventually it’ll catch up with them when they’re home and it’s dark.

You have to accept that some people will promise and they’ll break it.

Some people will forget about you.

Some people will lie to make you feel better.

Some people will lie to make themselves feel better about the truth.

You’ll know some people and they will be the most amazing wonders and then they’ll change and be happy. That they’ll leave things that threaten that happiness even if those things meant a lot before, and then spit on the history.

You have to accept that some people aren’t who you thought they were, and that all the love in your heart belongs to a memory.

You have to accept that you’ve made mistakes, a lot of them.

You have to accept that each one of those mistakes is going to haunt you.

You have to push some people out of your life. 

You have to accept that maybe you never really knew the person all along. 

You have to accept that certain people just don’t feel things the way you do and some people will beg for you on the phone and then lie right to your face.

Some people will move on, some people won’t.

And you have to realize that you deserve the ones who won’t leave you dry after promising a forever of looking back and fond memories and intermittent conversation. 

You have to accept that sometimes, the energy spent wishing someone the best things in life and worrying that they’re eating right and loving the person they are is better spent somewhere else.

And sometimes you have to accept that this isn’t your fault and that you can leave a door cracked, and the other person will close it.

❝ Yet you still value the things you’ve lost the most. Because the things you’ve lost are still perfect in your head. They never rusted. They never broke. They are made of the memories you once had, which only grow rosier and brighter, day by day. They are made of the dreams of how wonderful things could have been and must never suffer the indignity of actually still existing. Of being real. Of having flaws. Of breaking and deteriorating. Only the things you no longer have will always be perfect.

— The Efficiency And Perfection Of The LostI Wrote This For You

Breathtaking

Those mornings when we kiss and surrender for an hour before we say a single word.

and I think we used to be stars

on opposite shores of the sky


and I think I used to follow you 

past the horizon and in a stone marketplace and 

through the war lines of Germany and through the camps


I touched you as if I’d waited forever

I want far places for you; beauty and breath hitching in your lungs. I want happiness and growing old for you. And for me?

I’d settle for watching. That’d be enough.

and when we touch, we’re not really touching
atoms and nerves; my skin on
your skin
it’s like coming home and
I think I’ve known you forever

Planes taught us how to leave each other.

It seems, for years, that my life revolved around buses, airports and cars. My father took his new job and his new life and left every Sunday with a door click and a key, he left with crackling tires reversing out of the driveway. I, on the other hand, left with tickets. I left with suitcases or book bags or duffels, I left for long distance lovers and that first breath of out of state air. I craved it as an addict, the fold down trays, the window seats, the smell of new plastic. I came down during the departure, nearly scratching my skin off and wondering if it was even worth it in the first place. It’s a ripping, a pulling of your limbs over clouds and maps and miles as you fly away from the only place you want to be. As the crackling bus tires reverse from the loop, I wondered of what made me different from my father, what justified my leaving? He left for money and I left for adoration. I left for weekends packed with kisses we couldn’t afford any other time, he left with business suits and I left with sneakers, came back with bruises and lumps in my throat. The goodbyes would age me years ahead of my time, tinted windows and the last looks of teary eyed girls. You look at them hungrily, you steal the last images before an engine starts to pull you in the opposite direction and as hard as you try to commit it to memory, their face is gone from your mind with the exhaust pipe. You were different though, always have been. The goodbye kiss from you always stayed on my lips, it always lasted. For weeks I’d be able to hold onto it, for weeks I’d still feel your body wrapped around my back. You were different because I never looked at you for the final time, we never promised each other forever. We promised each other ‘now’ because that was all we could give and Darling, the ‘now’ has been wonderful. They tell us that this will never work. They tell us that we cannot be real, we cannot go on without a deadline. They say all sorts of things but they have never fallen asleep next to you, they have never touched the remnants of your lips on their’s two weeks later. In a way, I resent you because of how badly I need you. I hate the fire in my stomach and the ache your voice sometimes trails. You’ve caught me, you’ve swept me away. I still sometimes wonder what the difference is between my father and myself but I think I’ve figured it out. He hates leaving and I never really do, not anymore.

I still find myself reading LDR posts on Tumblr and Twitter. I admire couples who are in a long distance relationship, and though I’m no longer in one, their stories continue to inspire me. I’ve always believed that LDRs are somewhat magical and amazing.

Then again, I guess it’s not just for me.

❝ And listen, I made you a cassette recording. It’s a compilation of songs I used to listen to during some of my early formative relationships. And plus, there’s a couple of things I thought you might dig. I think music can make things seem a bit more real, sometimes, if you know what I mean. I’ve also included some break-up songs towards the end, just in case things don’t work out, which, obviously, you know, that isn’t the aim, though, I’m gonna tell you, it is likely. Passion rarely lasts, I’m afraid.

— Submarine (2010)

When you begin to realize that who you thought was the best and last wasn’t really the best and last.

Thank God.

revengeofthepenguin:

You came to my life
with what you were bringing,
made
of light and bread & shadow I expected you,
& Like this I need you,
Like this I love you

But to my ears they will come before
to wear down the tour
of the sweet and hard love which binds us,
and they will say: “The one
you love,
is not a woman for you,
Why do you love her? I think
you could find one more beautiful,
more serious, more deep,
more other, you understand me, look how she’s light,
and what a head she has,
and look at how she dresses,
and etcetera and etcetera”.

And I in these lines say:
Like this I want you, love,
love, Like this I love you,
as you dress
and how your hair lifts up
and how your mouth smiles,
light as the water
of the spring upon the pure stones,
Like this I love you, beloved.

I love you today.

And God, you don’t know how much I’m grateful that you feel the same way.

Today, let’s just live today. Have faith that tomorrow doesn’t change anything about how we feel.

Mahal kita.

Leave breadcrumbs, don’t burn the bridges too soon, and always know your way back home.