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I still think of texting you when I roll my eyes at what people say. I still want to recommend that movie, share that film festival date, show you my drawings. I still want to learn how to cook, but now it’s like I can’t because there is no one cheering me while I do it. I still get curious about your family. I still write letters. I still wonder about the future. I still buy you gifts. I still throw my blankets on the floor. I still dream with the smell of soap. I still listen to Joni on rainy days. I still hang on to hope. I still talk about you, to everyone. I still want to know what to do with all this love that I meant it for you. I still cry for no reason at all besides feeling like my existence is solely for the purpose of sheltering memories inside.

I am still.

listening while writing: Birdy & Jaymes Young – Best Shot

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