It has been one year since I got a taste of your lips. We couldn’t stop looking at each other. We watched each other live and we lived side by side. It was exiting, new and oh so silent. It didn’t surprise me that we never spoke again.
But when I think about last summer, we actually never spoke. It was love and lust, we didn’t have to speak. I watched as you lit one cigarette after another and you watched me sip from my coffee. It was beautiful. It was the kind of love in which you didn’t have to lose yourself.
And until this day I sometimes see you passing in the hallways. We barely take the effort to greet each other. But we still don’t have to. We barely speak. But I know that you’ll always have a weak spot for me. A spot in which you show me love again and I’ll watch you smoke, and we’ll get coffee, and silently watch another year pass by.
blondie pt 1.
The overthinking 