Our months of drawn out kisses and sweaty hands clasped together.
Our hot three hour long bus rides to New York and another one to Philly.
Our Julys in the rain.
Inma Ibáñez
Our Augusts of heartbreak and tears that grew seeds into our hearts.
Our eager hello’s and that gutting final goodbye.
Our months of drawn out kisses and sweaty hands clasped together.
Our hot three hour long bus rides to New York and another one to Philly.
Our Julys in the rain.
Our Augusts of heartbreak and tears that grew seeds into our hearts.
Inma Ibáñez
Our eager hellos and that gutting final goodbye.The summer months were always ours, even when we ended.
I always brought a piece of you with me wherever I went.
We always had a way of working everything out.
And then there was the summer of 2016.
I remember working until I dropped.
I remember wanting you to take my pain away.
Wanting you to rinse my anxiety down the drain.
And I remember thinking that you would be disappointed in me.
For not following my dreams.
For not singing at more open mic nights.
For working at a shitty office job.
But then I did follow my dreams and I remember wanting you to know.
I remember being proud of you.
From once being these love struck kids, to now blooming into our own selves.
Even if it stung like hell.
And thats when I decided to make myself proud instead.
And I decided to start doing things for me.
I quit my job and followed this dream that I never thought was possible for me.
I wrote a book.
I wrote poems until my heart bled.
My fingers were so free when they were flying.
When I was writing about you.
And I remember you telling me you bought the book.
The book of us.
I remember being scared you were going to think it was too much.
That I was too much.
I remember thinking that I still fucking loved you.
And a part of me always will.
That will never ever change.
But you arent my saran wrap anymore.
You dont cling to the ugly parts of me and kiss the dark thoughts away.
You arent mine and I cant call you at midnight anymore.
I dont know who you are now.
I used to think that I would miss you every summer.
I used to think that the summertime was when my heart would fall apart.
But today, tonight, on the first day of summer 2017, I dont miss you.
And maybe, just maybe, this feeling will last.
And maybe, just maybe, missing you will be a thing of the past.
And Ill write about something else.
About someone else, one day.
And maybe this person, whoever they are, wont leave me like you.
