If only we could all have the chance to see an old lover. If only we could all have years between what we are now and how we were then. Perhaps we would finally be ready. Perhaps not.
“I dream of you more often that I want to,” she says. “I drew up all of these expectations, these reactions. I would be angry. I would hug you. I would slap you. But somehow in all that planning, I didn’t account for how scared I was of needing you. I didn’t account for your smile.”
(Source: bellinibeignet, via marionetguillaume)