Little Things

And the problem is that I’m not sure exactly when I started feeling this way.

The butterflies, the anticipation of seeing–even talking to you, drove me mad. I didn’t understand why I felt so deeply for you. Why you were the only thing that always crossed my mind. Why moving on didn’t even seem to be an option. I was stuck in an invisible embrace. Coddled by the possibility that something could happen. That things could work.

But that wasn’t the case–that was never the case. I was stuck in a dream world. The funny thing is, though, I knew. Deep inside I knew that I was trying to grasp the air but I didn’t want to lose hopes.

Honestly speaking, though, is this really what love is like? Do feelings really run this deep? To the point where you can’t let go?

Sometimes I can feel myself getting possessive. In my mind, I’m calling him mine even though it’s far from the truth. I’m getting jealous even though I have no reason to be. I’m wishing that we’d spend more time together outside the bedroom although I know it’ll never happen.

I hold on to little things that he’s said to me over the years–the little things he’s done.

Like the time where he basically told me I was good enough.

That day when he told me I looked pretty.

All the hugs…all the hugs that sent my heart racing.

Just holding onto him was enough.

And I still do.

I guess that’s why I can’t let go…

Because I’m still holding on to the little things.


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