everything in life is just for awhile

this is a reminder to myself

that all the lovers who have once set my lungs on fire

and left me heaving silently from a broken heart,

barely cross my mind anymore 

that there will be others to come

just as the ones before have left. 

the waves will keep crashing into the shores 

just as loud and just as hard,

until someday it stops

and when that last wave comes 

and eventually goes,

i'd recall all the people who had once been most important to me

i'd recite them chronologically, 

like a list in my mind

i'd write about the people we were back then

and i'd write even more about who we could have been.

i'd etch them -

pen to paper,

songs to playlists,

an ending to a forever. 

this way, i'd remember our story for the both of us

and by then, i would have learnt that 

sometimes when you're too careful,

it turns into a different kind of carelessness 

but nonetheless, 

we cross our bridges when we come to them

and leave them behind - patiently and intricately, 

in hopes that it'll finally set us free 

i hope all the love i've given to the wrong people 

will eventually find its way back to me

when will you be back?

i miss you 

i don't know what i'm doing

jane austen once wrote 

"if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more"

- 

i don't think you'd understand how i feel about you

i don't understand it either 

it probably would never work out anyways,

that's what i tell myself at least.

that we're both too scared,

and the timing is all wrong.

that we don't know each other well at all,

and once we see each other for who we are,

the curtains would draw and the show would stop.

but if i were to be completely honest

despite all that, 

i still wanted to call you today 

and tell you

i miss you 

i dont know what i'm doing 

i haven't stopped thinking about you -

instead i just stared at your contact on my screen for abit 

i don't believe in falling in love quickly 

i.. don't remember falling in love with you

i just remembered holding your hand 

and realising how much it was going to hurt 

when i would have to let go

that's not love, is it? 

i dont know what that means 

the rest of our lives, you said 

-

perhaps.

whether it's by sheer dumb luck 

or a one in a million chance that 

even if we end up moving on,

we still stay a little bit in love with all the ways we were,

and find our way back to each other when it matters most. 

perhaps. 

i miss you 

i don't know what i'm doing