Things we misinterpret.

Some things you just don’t have time for. I don’t have time to wonder whether or not I can send this text, and whether an extra text message makes me look needy or not. I don’t need you just like I don’t need to text you. But I do it anyway, because I like the sound of your laugh, I guess. And it’s really not a whole lot more than that. We don’t need to talk, but if we do, I’m more than okay with that.


Here’s the big fear. That if you write something, or say something, or breathe something in your own way somebody will understand it differently. Somebody will perceive it in a way that it wasn’t meant to be perceived – and then what? Then you’ve got to try and justify yourself and I just don’t think I have a lot of time for that. I like hugs goodbye and asking big questions at 2am and some people confuse those for “I like you’s” and subtle want-to-be romance moments but we all speak in our own language. My questions at 2am and my hand in your hair does not mean “tell me where this is going,” it means, “I like listening to what you have to say and I don’t think enough of us take time to enjoy the small and temporary things.”


Please come closer, please kiss me longer,
Please don’t leave your scent on my bed sheets anymore.
My laundry machine is getting tired.

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