,,

March 4, 2013
I was unpacking when I heard you walk in. I had on light pink lipstick that I found at the bottom of a box. You put a few things on the counter and handed me my car keys. I kissed you and asked if you could help me move the bed. You said you needed to talk. I keep replaying this over and over in my mind. I don’t think I’ll be able to unpack the rest of our boxes.

April 4, 2013
It’s been a month since you left.
Mark says you’re not coming back.
I can’t sleep.
Are you awake?

May 4, 2013
I finally went to the doctor like you had begged me to.
You were right and yeah, I’ll be fine.

June 4, 2013
I sold my engagement ring at a pawn shop today. I bought expensive lipstick and flowers. I also bought a lot of beer and a carton of cigarettes. I’ve lost a lot weight since you last saw me. My friends from high school that I haven’t seen in years hardly recognize me. It’s weird being back in this town without you. I spend most of my afternoons at the beach. I saw a sea turtle today while I was swimming. I miss eating breakfast food at midnight with you.

July 4, 2013
I stumbled across the video of you in the car singing Taylor Swift. I deleted it before it played all the way through but I have to admit it made me laugh. I can’t remember how your voice sounds saying my name. I broke down and called you. Thank you for not answering.

August 4, 2013
I dropped my cigarette in my lap when you drove past me today.

September 4, 1012
I went on a date.
He thinks Bud Light is “quality beer”.
It just isn’t going to work out.

October 4, 2013
It doesn’t hurt anymore to say your name.

November 4, 2013
Hope you’re doing well.

December 12, 2013
Thank you for setting me free.

These short letters are straight from my notebook, unedited and carelessly written in extremely unattractive cursive. -d.a.h

(via scrapedpalms)

(Source: whisperingbones)

,,

My mother tells me
that when I meet someone I like,
I have to ask them three questions:

  1. what are you afraid of?
  2. do you like dogs?
  3. what do you do when it rains?

of those three, she says the first one is the most important.
“They gotta be scared of something, baby. Everybody is. If they aren’t afraid of anything, then they don’t believe in anything, either.”

I met you on a Sunday, right
after church.
one look and my heart fell into
my stomach like a trap door.

on our second date,
I asked you what you were afraid of.
“spiders, mostly. being alone. little children, like, the ones who just learned how to push a kid over on the playground. oh and space. holy shit, space.”
I asked you if you liked dogs.
“I have three.”
I asked you what you do when it rains.
“sleep, mostly. sometimes I sit at the window and watch the rain droplets race. I make a shelter out of plastic in my backyard for all the stray animals; leave them food and a place to sleep.”

he smiled like he knew.
like his mom told him the same
thing.
“how about you?”

me?
I’m scared of everything.
of the hole in the o-zone layer,
of the lady next door who never
smiles at her dog,
and especially of all the secrets
the government must be breaking
it’s back trying to keep from us.
I love dogs so much, you have no idea.
I sleep when it rains.
I want to tell everyone I love them.
I want to find every stray animal and bring them home.
I want to wake up in your hair
and make you shitty coffee
and kiss your neck
and draw silly stick figures of us.
I never want to ask anyone else
these questions
ever again.

Caitlyn Siehl, “Three Questions” (via charliebronsons)

(Source: alonesomes)