something in the orange - chris sturniolo

+05+

ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀᴀɴɢᴇ

❝ as soon as the storm is over,
and all of this fog is clear,
as soon as the storm is over,
i'll promise to send out for you. ❞

- storm + josé gonzález

❝ while i love storms, with their rain and cloudy skies- sometimes a beautiful sunrise or sunset is what i need. ❞
- airis <33

▌ o5

—--☼—--

The day before Nick talked to me, I told myself; "Once the storm is over- once it's cleared- I'll fix things.". Yet all that talk to myself was useless. Fix what? I'm serious. I didn't know what I was talking about but I just told myself I needed some time, then I was going to "fix it".

I know now what needs to happen.

    I'm sorry for all the stupidity that you had to put up with Mai.

The storm is over. And the fog is clear.

I'm sending out for you, I promise.

—--☼—--

Maizlynn loves writing poems. She used to think they were nerdy, or like her exact words were; "ancient literature-y". They became special for her because she could create small worlds, or dump her thoughts on a piece of paper like spilled ink. Her favorite part was that they were admired, considered beautiful.

Mai isn't good with speaking to anyone, again her words not mine. I think she always has something meaningful to say, but she prefers her words when they're on paper. Both are beautiful in my opinion, but I can't deny I love her works.

The only way to win a writer's heart is to show them you will learn how to twist your own words. To weave them into a ballad. One to sooth a heart that holds an inner child, a mind capable of dreaming impossible things, a fantasy world creator, and most of all a lover.

I took for granted how hard that would be.

I know she'd take me back if I simply said "I'm sorry.", but what kind of sad boyfriend would I be if that was my solution?!

Yeah, no.

So we're taking the long road, the 'fun' one.

—--☼—--

How can eight pieces of crumpled paper create a mountain in less than 20 minutes?

I can answer.

One very inexperienced writer. Or more over- an attempt at being a writer.

I stared at the stack of printer paper sitting beside the printer for a while. Maybe if I looked hard enough it would write itself? No, I'm not gonna sit here and waste my time like that- I'm not stupid.

Well- maybe I am, considering I dumped the love of my life.

But that's what we're here for- to fix it and clear the storm.

Storm.

Well maybe staring at a stack of paper did cause the poem to write itself!

—--☼—--

    " Storms most always have reason, "

    " Some are long awaited. "