On Waiting for 「The One」

You can be not ready for love.

Nobody can blame you. Love was never the same for anyone else.

We all have our perfect endings in our head, but that's why it's not quite.

Because for happy endings, we need our heart to know and our head to understand.

Unhappy Endings

Each closet, each dust bunny. Every nook and cranny, everything reminds me of you.

How can one person be in my life this deep.

More than anyone else, you have gotten into my system. You have become an existence I am frightened of.

This can't go on.

Maybe it doesn't need to.

Maybe it doesn't have to.

The white dress hung in simple, flowing folds. It was beautiful, but it contained lost love and broken promises.

Broken by the one thing nobody can reverse.

Death.

Blank

Blank walls, blank stares, blank faces.

Blank hearts.

This world of white is nothing.

People wander around endlessly, trying to find some meaning in the sea of numb.

But nobody can change in here, even if they want to.

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe they didn't want it hard enough.

So they wander on.

They were the people who refused to feel.

(Un)noticed(?)

It is the most ordinary things that we should notice.

A turn of the cheek.

A loose thread on your favorite jacket.

The people who were clapping until the end.

The back of your notebook filled with doodles and love notes and a phone number that you don't remember.

How bus stops can be uncomfortable but you can share kisses there that you'll never forget.

Or how many lamp posts you pass by on your way home.

Or how I never say that name out loud but mean him in every word I write down.

These little things, I notice them.

They are beautiful because I remember them, and I think about you,

and it was all because it was about you.