Writings

Fleeting Stare

Last night, I swore you knew
The way we locked eyes, and didn’t look away
The way I held onto you
As we both swayed closer, and not away

But then I remembered:
You were high and she was there.
So that moment we shared?
Nothing more than a fleeting stare.

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Ramblings

Home

Someone I’ve only known a year and a half, almost two years.

Someone I’ve only hugged almost as many times as I have fingers.

You shouldn’t feel like home.

But last night, that hug we shared, you did. Everything felt right and safe. Not to mention the fact how tightly we both held on. It’s like neither of us wanted to let go, let it end.

And that scares me.

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Writings

I Have This Thing….

Where I get insanely proud of my friends when they’re doing something they love. I’ve had it since middle school.

For example, if I have a friend who’s performing on stage, no matter what the performance is, I’ll just sit there when they go on and just grin like an idiot because I’m in awe of their talent and how natural they are on stage. I love it.

I love seeing people do their thing and obviously enjoying it, even with all the rough parts. But seeing their expression on opening night and seeing how proud they are, it’s wonderful to see.

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