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I didn’t fall in love with you.

I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way.

I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway.

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.

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— The Chaos Of Stars (via horanywithharry)

bunnyjennyphotos:

jordantiberio:

Jordan Tiberio. Lacuna, 2013-2014. Double exposure on medium format.

October, 2013,  I used to fall asleep to the melancholy lullabies of your memory each night.  Tossing and turning I’d hope the thoughts of you would seep out of my ears if I moved with enough force, but my attempts always failed.  You see, when you were mine, and as your fingers would travel along the landscape of my limbs, seeds were planted within my bones.  Your love would arrive in the form of a storm, and I was always without my umbrella.  I remember feeling the rosebuds cracking through my marrow; my skin flushing the crimson color of their newborn petals.  Their roots rejoiced to the nurturing of your lips as they danced across my flesh.  But only a year after you planted your garden, a drought abruptly roared over my plains.  Those once luscious flower beds on my bones have now been long wilted, for my heart is void of the kind of love it desires the most. 

Your voice was an octave equal to the song of the birds in the early morning, waking up the Earth.  And it was not until I was no longer awoken by it, and I forgot its sweet melody, that I realized heartbreak does indeed fade away.  At some point my memories of you started to become diluted, some of them possibly existing as figments of my own imagination, never having existed in the first place.  And even if I wish not to admit it, I’d fantasize about your next relationship.  What if you loved them more?  What if you forgot about me?  It is hard for one to imagine a love with anyone but their ex-lover, so we scoff at how they seem so unaffected by the sadness they’ve inflicted on our hearts.  But experiencing these overwhelming daydreams only lead me to the same realization that forgetting the sound of your voice did.  One day I will love someone new just as you will.  And maybe his hands will plant a new flower all of his own in the bones you have left behind.

Artifacts of you will still resurface when the future farmers of your old land harrow the soil, and when they do I will dust them off and position them proudly on my mantle.  Because it is okay to hold onto distant times.  I will never apologize for the days I spend dreaming, or the evenings I bathe in nostalgia.  I refuse to let go of the memory of how your eyes were the colors of emeralds I wish I could wear around my neck.  And I may never cease reliving the ecstasy that was once so plentiful because I can’t just let you fade away.  I loved you first.  These are my memories— only I can control their fate— and they are what will make me feel alive.  No matter where you are, you will always be with me, and although we may no longer be in love, I still love you.

But while I’m here I must not deprive myself of joy, for we’ll all become just impressions in the bed sheets one day.

I’m happy drew and I were a part of this series. jordan is an incredible artist. I love all of these.

image

Time doesn’t heal all wounds and no matter how hard you try, there are some things you can’t forcibly forget. Maybe for awhile it’s masked and buried under present fortunes and occurrences, but it submerges when least expected. Either it’s reminded by a piece left behind, a familiar place, a lingering smell, or the feeling of vast loneliness. It’s like a hiding game: where fragments of you are hidden in the crevices of my mind and heart, and it decides to jump out to scare me and remind me of your existence. Because after all this time, you are still the main variable to my sadness. I wonder if this is just how it’s meant to be for me. If I am forever doomed to be reminded by the substantial presence you once occupied in my life. When can I feel without thinking of you? When can I smile, cry, laugh, and love without you in mind? When will I stop searching for you? Perhaps you were it. You were my one and only, and I turned by back on it.

-ml

@ 95

it was the first time we saw each other after two weeks of separating. i stepped out of the shower and your eyes instantly perked up. you were in awe at how slim my body had become, how the bone of my hips were slightly protruding, and how prominent my collar bones displayed itself. i smiled and casually told you it was because i hadn’t eaten much in the last two weeks. “you look good, i like it,” you said.

what i failed to mention was i stayed in bed for the larger portion of those two weeks, only getting up when it was necessary. for school or work. i survived on saltine crackers and black coffee, and barely any sleep. i lost nearly 10 pounds in the time you spent deciding on whether you still wanted to be with me or not.

that’s when it started for me. starving and not eating, all because you thought it looked good anyway