Through the Lens

my life, my heart, my musings

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3 years ago tonight, I asked my then boyfriend if he wanted to be in a relationship, if he wanted to continue to fight for us…or if he wanted to call it quits. At this point, we had been in a 3.5 year relationship.


He said “I don’t know.”

So I walked away. Why should I stay with someone who didn’t [and couldn’t] tell me how they felt?

And I’ve never regretted that moment.

Three years later, I have a man who loves me, respects me and continually teaches me how to be a better person. And I couldn’t ask for anything more. Here’s to the future.

Filed under personal love relationships

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Came across old photos of the ex today while organizing photo albums. I’m normally not one to quote T.Swift but… 

"As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another picture to burn."

Came across old photos of the ex today while organizing photo albums. I’m normally not one to quote T.Swift but…

"As far as I’m concerned, you’re just another picture to burn."

Filed under ex-boyfriend memories

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And kid, you’ve got to love yourself. You’ve got wake up at four in the morning, brew black coffee, and stare at the birds drowning in the darkness of the dawn. You’ve got to sit next to the man at the train station who’s reading your favorite book and start a conversation. You’ve got to come home after a bad day and burn your skin from a shower. Then you’ve got to wash all your sheets until they smell of lemon detergent you bought for four dollars at the local grocery store. You’ve got to stop taking everything so goddam personally. You are not the moon kissing the black sky. You’ve got to compliment someones crooked brows at an art fair and tell them that their eyes remind you of green swimming pools in mid July. You’ve got to stop letting yourself get upset about things that won’t matter in two years. Sleep in on Saturday mornings and wake yourself up early on Sunday. You’ve got to stop worrying about what you’re going to tell her when she finds out. You’ve got to stop over thinking why he stopped caring about you over six months ago. You’ve got to stop asking everyone for their opinions. Fuck it. Love yourself, kiddo. You’ve got to love yourself.
unknown  (via irynka)

(via brookedavis-scott)

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Suddenly, and unexpectedly,
you were here.

Strong tendrils of smoke,
tinged with the ever familiar
musk of your cologne
wafted into my nose (into my brain)

And in a flash, I was overcome
with your memory.

Your tall lanky memory
dressed in leather and chucks.
Lighter in the front pocket, cigs in the jacket.

It’s amazing how comfortable (and uneasy) a smell can make one feel.

Filed under poetry inspiration smell memory complicated friendship