the phoenix posts in pain

even as i make fantastic plans, book the flight to escape to europe for three weeks. to see roma again, my hearts home, and madrid — my first time to spain! even so, even as i make plans, i feel the tears drowning my heart, creeping up my throat, threatening to spill out into reality. i swallow it. i take the clue from you. what else am i supposed to do?

i knew that it might have been too late to ask to spend christmas with you, with family. but it didn’t know it would all be too late. i’m trying. i’m going to go away. find myself again, find myself as i did last time, in rome.

i don’t know what happens next, but i guess i am to stop waiting. waiting to be asked… to be asked on a date, to be asked home to christmas, to be asked to be your girlfriend.

I will go in this way
And find my own way out
I won’t tell you to stay
But I’m coming to much more


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