The slow crash of you and me

Life moves in your way. It moves slowly. Between every hug. Until you don’t remember when you last held her in your arms. It moves in your way. Until you think that thinking “I love you” is the same as saying those words out loud. It moves in your way. But you believe that if you hold on a little longer, happiness will be around the corner. It grinds away your dreams every day so slowly that you never notice the slow crash of you and her. And you always think, “There is still time, there is still time.” Until one day there isn’t.

The slow crash of you and me

Life moves in your way. It moves slowly. Between every hug, until you don't remember when you last held her in your arms. It moves in your way until you think that thinking "I love you" is the same as saying those words out loud. It moves in your way, but you believe that if you hold on a little longer, happiness will be around the corner. It grinds away your dreams every day so slowly that you never notice the slow crash of you and her. And you always think, "There is still time, there is still time." Until one day there isn't.

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