I have so much to say without the right words to say it. I try to write things down. Let them out, let them go, but even then they are just saved drafts that i look back to.. So they remain unpublished … And I’m not one for reading or having anyone romantically to even blood related read them because they wouldn’t understand. They’d have too many questions that I couldn’t myself answer.
I wonder how many of you have drafts… Notes… Notebooks, of things you wrote or felt .Secrets to just yourself.
Or how many of you have wrote a complete text, page, or book and completed deleted , erased, or ripped it up right after you took time to try and show a little vulnerability, to let out how you truly felt about something. I wonder what we call these things. I wonder if it’s a struggle or a blessing. Ugh.Will I ever find the right words?
i love kissing so much how it can be soft and romantic or hard and passionate or lazy and sleepy or affectionate and then it’s like you like the person and they like you because you are kissing and it’s just you two and you can close your eyes and there will be nothing in the world except that