"if only you could see yourself now,you’re settling back into a quiet autumnand you’ve missed the..."

“

if only you could see yourself now,

you’re settling back into a quiet autumn

and you’ve missed the smell of must, rain, and tobacco

kissed into the corners and couches

of the same house you share with seven others.

you miss the girl who used to sleep on your couch

who had the skull of the bird she is named after

tattooed across her arm.

you are glad you stopped drinking.

it’s 2am and you’re staying up far too late.

you have an interview for a job in the morning

that you will come to hate in 2 months.

you’re not in love the way you expected.

some memories turned into broken drawers

that you chose to store all your knives in,

every time you open them, they always come spilling out towards you.

you miss having sex with people you also love.

precariousness is now the pillow you sleep upon,

and you no longer have such structured repeating romance.

you no longer have such a structured repeating life,

and I know it killed you that you knew it wasn’t forever.

i know i can’t stop you from panicking,

but it will all make sense.

you repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat repeat

until you realized it was too early to build such a life based on repetition.

you’re settling back into a quiet autumn,

and you’re stone sober at 4am after a Friday night

while the world starts to makes a strange kind of sense,

the same way words become meaningless when repeated enough times.

all of this

is to say,

you made it this far,

and i’m proud of you.

”

- Brandon Speck, “A Letter to Myself, A Year Ago” (via brandonspeck)