My House Full Of Memories Of You

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I miss the describable feeling of knowing everything will be okay because I have you in my life. The feeling of okayness when everything in my life is in total chaos.

I miss you. I miss that describable feeling that comes with you.

I hope you come back.

My door is always open in case you come back. And please don’t take too long. Because robbers might enter my house full of memories of you.

And I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want them to rob that.

So please come back, and everything will be okay again even though they’ll never be.

Because you were the one who left the door open. It was never me.

I will never know the reason why you left it open. Is it because you’re coming back? Is it because the door is broken? Is it because I’m still the one who needs to shut the door close even though you’re the one who left me broken?

I just don’t fucking know the reason why!

And I’m forever broken not knowing why you left the door open inside my house full of memories of you.


6 thoughts on “My House Full Of Memories Of You

  1. Love makes us vulnerable. This is evident in your metaphor of the open door of our house, our inner self. In leaving that door open, in holding on to the memories of the one we love and lost, we remain open to love. The joy of loving and being loved comes with the pain of separation and loss.

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