theglasschild:
Branches.You’re the one I want to share all this with. The pleasures and the pains...
Branches.
You’re the one I want to share all this with. The pleasures and the pains and I wonder if you can sleep at night, and if not; how come? What do you think about? Are you happier than ever before? And do I have anything to do with it? Or am I just one in the line, you could find something— or someone else to fill out the absence with if I pack up and leave? I want to tell it all, to you, but still I have nothing to say.
The silence spread wider and we go through our shallow ways, as if to describe the possessions in our bags, and my throats tightens up, trying to remember what I used to tell to this man, who’s voice I hardly recognize, now, after all these years.
Did we both change? a little too different?
Did you change, and I not? Or the other way around?
Is this all in my head?
Would we be happier finding a way to fit into each other’s differences, or would we happier going on separate ways?
I have nothing to tell you.
Where do I start?
