and I don’t even know why I worry. I can’t explain the doubts – they’re mine, cause you don’t make me question this. it might be love. it is lovely and you’re loving and I feel loved. it is all so unusual and still you feel like home.

I wonder /

I wonder / if we will meet again / where you are when I think about you / why you didn’t love me / , do you think about me still / if you know that I still do / would I want to know to answer / where we went wrong / if we would have been happy / why you didn’t try / if you regret it / if you know that I could forgive you / why I still hope to forgive you / , foolishly / and it’s all I have left of you.



darling, we will laugh and we will cry. there are days to get through. some a given, some a burden. there will be happy tears and other won’t be happy. some remind us that we overflow in order to find our way again. 

there’s a couple things I’ve learned;

1. going home doesn’t necessarily have to feel as if you’re going home.
2. you won’t feel your fingers at times
3. it will feel unfinished but going back won’t solve it and you’ll have to accept that.
4. people will surprise you in good ways
5. not everybody will understand but the ones who do make up for it
6. if someone holds me for too long I will probably cry
7. you’ll finish the book you’ve brought to every sunset and that ending will feel very good for a change
8. you keep saying you don’t have enough savings but you will spend money on a trip anyways.
9. love will return to you in unfamiliar ways

16 days.

16 days passed. this morning I woke with the sunlight beaming through the tall windows. I sit with the sun on my face, it isn’t warm but if I close my eyes I can still imagine what that feels like. this is not my chair. maybe this is not my home but I don’t know where else.

wij, vooruitgaand

ik heb je lang niet gezien maar vertel mij alles. je stem klinkt nog altijd vertrouwd en de toekomst vaak weer niet. we zullen er samen om lachen. het maakt niet uit.

de grijze mist tot in de laatste straten van de stad. wij, vooruitgaand, maar verkleind tot lichtpuntjes in een grijze zee. ik weet nog altijd niets zeker maar dit is wel de goede richting.

ik zet mijn voeten op de groeven van de tegels. ik zal luider zijn en het zal mij geluk brengen.