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The warm smell of your woody cashmere cologne

It lingers, even now

I can still hear the sound of your heart beating underneath me as my head lie on your chest

Can you still feel me now that I’m not there?

Does my presence linger, or have I become a ghost in your world?

- to the boy with the red car

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reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

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LEO WOODALL as Dexter Mayhew S1.E4 · '1991' · ONE DAY · 2024

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One Day (2024)

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When I make pasta, I can't help but wonder what you'd do. Would you add more salt or pepper? Maybe extra Parmesan? I know you’d go for seconds, you always loved my pasta.

But I think it goes deeper than something as meaningless as pasta. I don’t think that’s the point.

I think about you no matter what I do or who I’m with, you linger in my mind.

Brushing my hair, I think about how you’d tell me I look so pretty. How you’d smile at me in the mirror if we brushed our teeth together.

I think about how, after a long workday, you'd still shower me with kisses, no matter how tired you are.

And laying next to me, looking into my eyes, admiring everything you see – those thoughts linger.

But then reality hits, and I'm back to making pasta for one.

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◡̈

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Sharing a bench by the water, we sat in a peaceful quiet that felt uniquely ours—no awkwardness, just a comforting calm. It was more than tranquility; there was a subtle, unspoken connection, as if the waves whispered about a mysterious and spiritual bond between us.

As the ocean whispered its secrets, he asked me, “Have you ever seen a dolphin or a whale before?”

“No, never. I wish.” I admitted, my wish carried away by the ocean breeze. Suddenly, a dolphin danced by, as if responding to the unspoken desires of our conversation.

In the shared gaze that followed, laughter bubbled up like a secret between us.

“No way.”

“What a coincidence.” He murmurs.

Yet, beyond the laughter, there was a sense of something spiritual, as if the universe had composed this moment for us. That dolphin marked the beginning of a story, and each subsequent chapter felt like the unfolding of destiny, tailor-made for us.

- excerpt from a book I’ll never write

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via weheartit

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Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals

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"Think of me next time you visit," you said, and I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. You still didn't know. You didn't get it. Needless to say, I thought of you all the time.

excerpt from a book I'll never write / n.j.

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“You’ll get over it,” they say.

What if I don’t? What if I never stop loving you? Missing you? What if I never stop seeing you in everything and everyone, and what if decades pass and you’re still my first thought when I wake up in the morning, and what if I never stop wondering what you’re doing, or where you are, or if you think of me? What if it never goes away? Then what? What will I do then?

- excerpt from a book I’ll never write