There was something in the way he looked at me like there was nothing worth seeing, something in the ignorance of my existence. There was something so beautiful in the vacancy that stared right back at me. It was a first kiss like chocolates and tents and it was a good one. I was broken
and he wasn't and I had fallen as far down as I could go while he didn't see the point. I had loved and he had been. I was on a detox and that boy, well he was my relapse. I had never been held, like a hold about raining and breaking and squelching mud between our toes. A hold about legalities and fear. A being about how could I and a being about letting go and grabbing. The past was a scary thing was it was also irrelevant. It taught me to love and be loved. To hold and be held. To try, and be rejected, but to try again anyway. He is a chocolate pudding on a sun lounge and a kiss in the rain with tears coming down my face that blend. He is a something that I'm just not certain of yet, but I'm positive. Oh happiness, how I've missed you.

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