Reblogged from dearoldlove
I wish you could be the rock that I cling to in times of trouble. Instead, you are the trouble and the ocean of unrequited love that drowns me as I look for that damn rock.
(via mafiashit)
(via mafiashit)
When Five Fell by WongFuProductions
We delight in the promise of falling for love.
We crumble in the dread of falling from love.
Everyone falls. Everything falls.
Can the things we love, love us back just the same? Five household objects express their feelings toward their owner when she begins to neglect them for someone else. “When Five Fell” is a new take on the ideal boy-meets-girl love story. Although the short is told from a unique and unconventional perspective, the emotions described should be familiar to anyone that’s fallen in or out of a relationship.
One - Glasses; The morning is when she lingers. It’s before the world wants anything from her and.. That’s when she’s most beautiful. It’s true not many saw her like that, but I can’t say I was the only one. Even though each of us had our own beginnings, mornings like this were shared between us all. She used to tell people that it was like the world was strong with a dull piece of charcoal. That was before me. Now that she sees things my way, everything makes a little more sense. This is me. If I’m meant for anything, it’s to show her the world. Is that so bad?
Two - The Phone; A quiet morning like the many before it, calm, comfortable. But comfort can be terribly blinding. The difference with this morning is in a call. She smiles. For who? I can’t see anyone. She tells me she wants to be a raindrop. She doesn’t like falling, as long as she’s not alone. And raindrops are never alone. She always has a new story to tell me. Today, it’s about being a raindrop. I wish I could’ve been there, because stories aren’t always enough. And words, can only go so far. This is me. Sometimes, I wonder if she’s still talking to me, or if I’m just.. eavesdropping. It just to be everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes for minutes. Healthy relationships are based on relationships, but her words, however sweet, and real, sound so distant. Now, they float past me everlestly. As if, they were meant for someone else.
Three - The Umbrella; She must know what she does to me, her every touch, every time she holds my hand, every time she holds me close. This is me. If you hold my hand, I’ll be yours forever. My simple promise; that’s all I can offer.. Is it enough? It may be too late for me. It may be too late.
Four - Her Scarf; Anyone can look from a distance, a stranger can look from a distance, what’s so special about that? But, to know our scent, it means something else. It means we’ve been close. Closer than anyone else. Haha, I dare you say I’m lucky. But when she doesn’t want me, when she’s away, and it’s just.. her scent, with me.. I can only feel, forgotten. This is me, left behind. Am I the stranger now?
Five - The Mug; There are those nights, when it’s just the two of us, and she softly hides in her own thoughts, and only one thing that seems out the cold silence. A kiss. This is me. Asking what the perfect day tastes like, and they’ll say our lips. She was my first kiss; it has to mean something. Something sure, but true, because the taste of a pure kiss can’t be shared. It’s the dreadfully romantic idea, that there can only be one. The question is, am I her only one? I’m afraid the truth will break me. But her kiss, is convincing. I’m not her only one.
She said she wanted to be a raindrop, and today, it finally broke us. She had found her own to fall with; her own to fall for. Today, she was a raindrop.
I wish I’d seen past those dimpled smiles long enough to realize that they were never meant for me.
(Source: shelly--cooper, via mafiashit)
