❝ adrift, bygone, but always near. still loved, still missed, and still dear. ❞
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬⠀⠀
⠀ ⠀Wherein Ash and Serena reunite with the latter by an unseen stroke of fate. With a history l...
❝(n.) an impractical dreamer with no business sense; one with their head in the clouds. ❞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was a roughly ten minutes long voice message, and without double-taking, I tapped the play button - my heart beating in the throat.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'm aware that I've already lost the golden opportunity to give an explanation months ago.
And I swear, I swear I did forget everything that we were - that occured between us all this time. I really did obliterate us from my memories for once, not lying. But with eleven cups of coffee wiping out my sleep this night, it became an almost impossible task to stop thinking about that very notable honey ball. She whose hyssop whiffs still hold on to my jacket from the very unceremonious Christmas get-together.
You know, it should be made illegal for one to affect a person the way she does. With so much perfection - yet so secretly, under your nose and from the thinnest of air, she'd pocket your heart before you even realize it. And gosh, isn't she merciless.
Her love's indeed not easy to escape, but it won't be very cash money of me calling that craze as a malicious frame-game. She's so devoted to the one she loves that it'll drive you insane at times, it'll ram you from all directions and make your heart skyrocket to unimaginable rates, so you've gotta hold on tight - both on yourself and on to her. What're those damn seatbelts meant for, after all?
She's that outshining and awfully familiar melody of waterfalls you hear when encompassed by a gloomy forest, that one song which randomly starts playing on the radio station - which you without the shadow of a single doubt had listened to somewhere but can't quite coherently spell the name out. She's the warmth you get from encircling fingers round the hot chocolate cup during winters -- but she's also the sweat-inducing beat of sunrays on a midsummer afternoon.
She's a shattered yet polychromatic piece of annealed glass that you've got to handle with care at all given costs. She's the unerasable stain of wine on a linen dress, the less traveled but more venturesome path where bicycles overtake the Volkswagens.
