we often meet in halfways. to hate what we’ve become mostly every in the middle and to come home and feel like we are an abandoned place; to meet you and let you pull grief off my lips and grieve over the past or even just over the last night’s anger with me. to meet you and not to see you, to see you and feel like i haven’t met you yet. we often admire the dawn’s early light and the prayers we bury upon the hurt for we know it well. and we know us well. we are even afraid to touch and know the hurt that goes along with the kisses, and to exhale them and the way we lock them with the coldness of breaths is sometimes the only thing that matters. we often choose to remember. to hate the silence and to love it in between of almost stopped heartbeats, to die a little softer as we can’t even hold the aches we can find in our bruises and to find you tearing all the memories off them—to let me fall upon the touch of insanity and feel all the things around me the same way. to cry and hate your laughs, to break you and honour you all at once. i often see you with things that almost never happens and with things that just happened, and there are nights the thought of them hurts.
we always believe that love is never finished. and that sometimes, they just ceased to exist in random or ugly places—in between of doubts and hopeless hearts but they keep finding home in it. we often think we have forever just to find ourselves hating the moment and just sitting in spaces. to try to reach the skyline just to find our palms wounded and to find love in empty seats and in empty, little-thought-away hearts. and i will find you hating the attempt and every little pain it bears; i will see you and i will know that you have sad, lovely things in you that i will probably miss if i blink. in there, i will try to be the one who keeps to feel like i knew you and you knew me. and maybe, it will remind us how we find the gentle hands reach hearts and how we willingly fall into it. to know the secrets in gaps we create and to hold the breathtaking moments as it fades in the memory then let it inflict us something to mourn for when we least expect it. to know the answers in every try and to know it better when we stopped trying. so many times, we met just to lose the grip we know we’ve got to hold and to cry over the things we can’t say just because it feels too much. and you will say you know it well—i know it well. but we also know that we can still make it the next friday or even just the next heartbeat of us. to know we break as often as we tell we’re gonna make it, to live more than the scars and to make love through the hell we’ve made. and with all these things, the world may call us fool but at the edge, we thought: maybe, we’re really always be falling into pieces and in wrongs but we know it too well, as much as we know the pain—
it goes other way around too.
— 04:34 l. sin, to meet nowhere & halfway
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»» photo (without the words in it) screencapped from the film: Before Sunrise (1995)
