“Maybe it was your brown eyes. Maybe it was your scent, maybe it was your hands, they were so common, but so original. You were my happy place, you were my safe haven, you were my home. But I guess, we move houses sometimes because of leaks and cracks, and it wasn’t the home that were damaged, it was my heart, it was my feelings for you, it was everything.”
— Excerpts from a book I’ll never write. (via avouer)
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