Monday, July 25, 2011

The bookstore is closing down. Now I'm not sure what to think about anything anymore. I bought all of the books you and I once spoke of. A souvenir I suppose you could say. But, I haven't found the strength in me to open any of them. I journeyed alone to town the other day, saw your older brother, but I don't think he recognized me. It's been four months since you've been gone, and I still smell you on my skin. There are days now when I manage not to think of you. When the call of my books are stronger than the needs of my own heart. This time of year, there is life everywhere. I find you in all of it, as if you were still walking home to me.

5 comments:

  1. If you have written another phrase, I think I will end up crying. Because I know this feeling once, or maybe twice. The feeling of feeling someone or something that isn't there anymore, Lauren, does it prick? Does it hurt?

    Thank you for this post, my dear. I missed reading you.

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  2. This is so beautiful and sad it makes me cry. You words are filled with such power yet subtlety. It's a stunning mix. Don't stop writing, dear. I have missed your writing too.
    I hope you are well, and thank you for being so kind and lovely. I can't tell you how much it means to me xo

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  3. My darling, how are you?

    P.S. I tagged you. Love you.

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  4. there is nothing sadder than a closing bookshop, and on top of another sadness, i think it must be unbearable. take care of yourself. i don't believe the melancholy will soak your bones forever. x

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  5. beautiul words. i hate missing, it's the worst feeling. xxx

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