What Do You Do When The Love You Thought Would Last Forever Just Walks Away?

carpe noctem

HELLO, THIS

Details: Seascape, Alfred Thompson Bricher, 1890

Alexander woke early; he had left the window open, and fragrant pear blossoms were now floating in and depositing themselves on his face and chest. He thought of yesterday evening and smiled, picking up the little, white flowers one by one and dropping them onto the floor of his room. He stood up and dressed quickly. He picked up his bookbag and nearly ran out the door, but stopped to fuss over his hair, blowing in the spring breeze that came in from the half-open window. He gave up and went down the stairs, skipping every other step. With his bag carelessly flung over his shoulder, he started walking towards the South Meadow, breathing in the sweet air. He hadn’t realised how he felt towards Theo, not now, not yet. All he did was smile and look at the clouds running their slow race across the sky. Before he knew it, Theo fell into step beside him. He kept smiling.

“Good morning, Alexander.” Hearing his name on Theo’s lips awoke him from his reverie.

“Morning,” he said, suppressing his smile so that only the left corner of his mouth turned upwards.

They walked in silence for a bit, passing the few boys that were awake at this early hour. Alexander noticed the way Theo’s curls fell onto his forehead, the way his eyebrows scrunched up and his lips parted slightly when he seemed to be thinking about something, the way he examined Alexander’s face when he thought he couldn't tell. Their eyes met more than once, sweet moments of horror intertwined with whatever that feeling you get when you smile like an idiot is called.

They sat down at a bench near the meadow, and Alexander opened his book. Theo, however, pulled out a sketchbook and started drawing something that Alexander couldn’t see. Before he knew it, the noise built up, and Alexander opened his phone to check the time. They ran to assembly together, laughing the whole way. Everything felt fuzzy for that entire day. They smiled at each other in English, and Alexander noticed how often they agreed on arguments. He also noticed how Theo looked so deeply at the words on the pages of whatever piece of literature they were examining, as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle without all of the pieces. He always looked for a deeper meaning behind every word so quickly, looking for some sort of wonder where Alexander didn’t think to search.

I dream and I dream and I dream.

Is life not just a scramble to get things done before a deadline that you don’t even know the time of?

If I can talk to you and not be judged, reblog this

The feminine urge to mess up your whole sleep cycle to read books.