We got a new door nob, which means we have new keys. I wanted you to hold onto the one thing that kept us connected, kept me vulnerable to you. My home was your home, and the key I gave you has always been able to unlock the door. I remember when you showed me how you wore it on your wrist everyday. Dont stop wearing it… I dont want it to be useless yet; ever.
Do you still miss me?
I still like to think we’re inseparable. Are we? Do you think we are?
I’ve grown to miss you more and more. I get into moods where I think about you, mostly when I’m sad or angry. You could always make me feel better.
I dont want to always write about you, yet my ink can only spill out the memories and thoughts of you. I can only spell your name. I want to write about love, and nature, or a fucking stroll in the woods. I want to write about beauty, but you’re the only beauty that seems to pour out of my head.
Do I still make you feel a whole world of emotion?
You still make me.
YOU ARE READING
My Past Memories
Short StoryWho are you when you're desperate enough to find love in anything? Different times, different people. Not entirely sure what to call this "book" but every piece is a day with someone or my personal feelings with them at the time.
