What if.

I sometimes, all the time… wish I had more…

The way I learned life and love with him.

Those times of happiness and pain altogether….

Where I laid my head on his shoulders and him kissing me forever….

Could live and die every moment every while…

Don’t know how much I could give to have him back.

Cause its only his memories now, that ever make me smile.

WHAT IF he had….

Fought the world…god…rest…and just once said…

You’re just MINE….

What if…

Love the post What If by Ricardo Medeiro Elisiário on LETS TALK ABOUT THE L WORD. Guess I can call this more like a response…but something I never got to say to someone…way to go Rick, second consecutive post from you that made me reply. Very touched.Quoting:

“A crushed heart now spilling past memories is far more valuable than having it, still, virginally intact but hollow.

Oh… those memories I vacantly recall only so I can finally smile again; picturing her eyes without fearing the inevitable tears that’ll come along, running down mine.

How much would I give to have this hurt stab me once more? Teach me, through the same silent bus rides and vulnerable drunk glances, what it feels to long like that; just so I could be there, once again, with her.

Am I too insane, yearning for the same old life she stole from me, a life where I could be who I am not anymore?”


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