When they leave

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When they leave you, don’t keep fragments of them in your purse.

Take out the old train tickets from journeys to see each other,

and take out the old receipts from your round of drinks together in dark little pubs.

Don’t let their forgotten jacket linger in your wardrobe,

and don’t let the old pair of trainers they left on your shoe rack catch dust.

Don’t you dare wear their stray t-shirts at night, convincing yourself its just for a moment — to reminisce.

Don’t hold on to the memory of their kisses, or the tender way they spoke your name like butterflies.

Let your heart only sometimes ache with the bittersweet pang of the end.

Know that you’re better for it,

happier for it,

wiser for it,

and anchored to nothing else but your own self and your own freedom.

I Wish

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I wish I was a romantic

I wish that I could soak up the blind hope

that shines in your eyes when you look at me.

As though simple was as simple says

and real life didn’t mean that we could have to face a lot of fucked up challenges.

I wish that my heart wasn’t built on tough and bitter

That my eyes hadn’t become desensitized to lies and shitty attempts at love

That I grew up knowing what real love was and wasn’t scarred and damn near terrified to try it.

I make it harder than it probably should be

Because hard is the only way it makes sense to me

I am shaken by the ease of us

like the backwards person that I am.

But I do wish,

I sometimes wish, that I could sit here,

in front of you for a moment,

and pretend that we could get through it all,

easy.

WE COULD DIE, ANY MOMENT FROM NOW.

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I spent the majority of the Christmas holidays refusing to swallow my pride. I was aggravated at my mother. She had done something, which to my teenage eyes, was a complete act of betrayal.

In reality? It was something so petty I won’t even bother disclosing.

Today I revived awful news that she is currently in a dangerous situation, and was involved in a pretty damn terrifying state of affairs in her travels to Africa. And you know what? It took less than a second for me to drop every grudge and all the mediocre bullshit I ever held against her. Those ridiculous times I thought she didn’t love me enough were forgotten. Those moments – in the heat of my teen angst – I considered that I hated her, didn’t even exist anymore. I cried instead, and thought, ‘Dammit, Sara. You’re a selfish sonofabitch.’

The fragility of life is a lesson I was thoroughly reminded of again. And is something that everyone has to try to remember. I forgot how important it is – to remember that the people we love, love us, and that we love them just as much. I think, it’s something that I don’t think that I will ever forget, despite how easy it is to, even for a little while.

My mother is the best mother that any human being could ever ask for. She’s temperamental, and sometimes pushes people over the edge. But by God, I promise you that she is the most bloody hard-working and intelligent and strong and loving woman that I have ever known.

Forgiveness, kindness and love. Remember that. Nothing else matters in the end. After all, we could die, any moment from now.