I told you I was a writer, even though I never showed you anything I’d written

perhaps the time we had was too filled with other things

like laughing at things that made no sense

or enjoying each other’s magical touch,

life is a whirlwind of emotions and confusion with little hints of happiness

you never know when you’re in one of those moments of happiness because at that point you cease to exist

life becomes: just living

no friction, no thinking

no past, no future,

its such a powerful trance, these happy moments, that one rarely knows they are in them

when in fact they do wake up, when i, in fact, slowly am waking up

it is loneliness i wake to,

to the feeling of missing a piece.

I could become bitter,

and think that life always holds happiness in front of me and then pulls it away,

i could dream of how things could be,

but i choose not to, Amanda

i choose to let myself drown in these feelings of longing,

because they remind me that i have lived

that i have,

in this short life we get,

experienced something beautiful,

worth missing, and worth longing for

and when the pain evaporates,

there will be nothing more left than the memory of a beautiful person

the memory of the little universe we shared, far away from the world.