she would have broken that winter into ten separate snowflakes of seasonal joy, if it meant him staying till the converse shoes fell off his feet.
i only wish there was a way to make him understand that love has nothing to do with what is new, what is different. love is meant to be comfortable, old, understanding.
why was it so easy for you to tire of me and choose her instead. she doesn't even understand why you like burnt toast and old movies in the middle of the night.