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Implosion

when you sit there with someone and you know you love them, but you can’t say it yet, because you want them to love you too before you admit it, that’s heartbreaking. looking into each other’s eyes and you’re about to spin really really fast underneath a Christmas tree of lights, so fast you might fall down, but you’ve got your eyes where they matter, looking at the person you want to be there when you’re happy, sad, forgetful, anxious, lost, stressed, goofy, insightful, loving. waking up in the morning to look at them sleep, wondering if it makes you creepy, but you want to have a perfectly peaceful image of their face when you know they’re dreaming something and you hope it’s beautiful, like the first time you kissed and it meant something. the feeling of his touch on the small of your back moving upwards to soothe you into happiness. crying at night when he’s not there because all you want to do is hold onto the spreading warmth that fills your chest when you think about him lying next to you. wishing that you could finally be the person who makes them want to stop looking for anything else because they’ve found everything in you. praying that it lasts because seasons change and people fall apart all the time and you are notorious for fucking shit up. begging the higher powers to let you keep this one, on your hands and knees sobbing, begging them not to let you go. breaking at the thought that you will have to start over, because the end credits are rolling and you know your number will disappear from their phone some day, and they won’t remember you like you remember them.

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About deadendemily

Emily lives in Austin, TX. She has a minor in chaos and a major in spray paint. She likes Vincent Price and ABBA. She enjoys being covered in fake blood and writing horror stories. Most of the time she just hopes that her cat is not plotting to murder her, her cat being a minion of Satan and all. They would never suspect the cat.

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