I'm a slow-motion accident
lost in coffee rings
and fingerprints

October 2011
January 2017
May 2017

Cold Turkey: Day 1
Monday, May 8, 2017

I miss you.

I miss you so much.

I had a massage tonight. It was weird and sensual.

I saw you typing something on Telegram.

I wish I could talk to you.

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Saturday, January 28, 2017



I love you.

My mind and heart are always full of you, but my arms are almost always empty.

I miss you.


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Sunday, January 22, 2017

I love the way you say good morning in kisses. :)

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Wednesday, January 18, 2017

One of my sisters said that the most annoying thing about me is the way I discover a new song and play it on repeat until it drives her crazy. I think maybe I just don't know how to love anything halfway.

I've been that way with people ever since I can remember. I will replay parts of you that whisper until I know their lyrics by heart. Sometimes it's too stubborn, sometimes too loud, but it's the only way I know how.

Some nights I feel like driving around with the windows down, and there is always that one song I am ready to hit restart on.

You are that song, and the radio is turned all the way up.

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Tuesday, January 17, 2017

I never told you this, but after every time we're together, I always make a mental list of my favorite things. It could be anything—from your laugh at something I said you found funny to a particular kiss. But the list always, always include looking into your eyes and seeing it sparkle with joy. 

I'd do anything to keep that spark alive. 

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Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Even in snippets, our love is more than what most get in their lifetime.

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Stranger Than Fiction
Tuesday, January 10, 2017

I'm incoherent. I think.
I'm still pretty baked. But I need to spill these thoughts somewhere.

... ... ...

You know how when everything between us started, how everything just fell right into place? How all of the pieces just perfectly arranged themselves into what is now this relationship? How I was initially the girl you were annoyed at?—the girl who took forever in the bathroom just when you badly needed to go. The same girl who was the loudest in the cafe that night. (And God knows how much you hate loud girls. Why do they want to attract so much attention anyway?) The girl who turned up three hours late?

And then there was that Sales Academy.

You were right. Everything that transpired up to that moment we first kissed (and everything after) was brewing the perfect storm. The most perfect, if there's even such a thing.

It feels as if we're characters in a book or a movie. Remember that conversation in Elbert's Steak Room when we said we thought these things only happen in movies? Well, what if we are? What if somebody has written our story already? How is this supposed to end? Are we a comedy or a tragedy?

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