Ever since I came back to this place,
Where street signs and neighborhood parks,
Mark first kisses and an entity of first moments,
I have not been able to be at peace with myself,
Because every time I turn a corner in this hometown we experienced first love in together,
I am reminded of times and events which have been packed into boxes labeled
“Do not open, avoid at all costs,” in my mind.

I don’t want to remember the significance that these places hold anymore,
I don’t want to be constantly reminded of what event happened where,
I can’t be home here,
Being home only makes me long for you,
Which I find the perfect irony in,
Because the only place I have ever truly felt at home was wrapped in your arms,
Parked on the side of this suburban road, looking out over street signs and neighborhood parks,
On hot summer days,
Like today.
(e.m.w)

I used to compare you to a hurricane,
I used to describe what we had as something like a giant, destructive ring,
With a calm, seemingly odd centre,
I used to tell people, that when things were good, and going strong,
That we were in the centre, we were in the eye, and we had nothing to worry about because we had found the calm in the storm,
I was told to not compare us to something that is notorious for being destructive,
Because I was told that we were in fact, the opposite of that,
I was told that you were not a hurricane, and you were not the centre of the storm,
Instead, you were pure calm, and pure safety, likened to summer nights and sunsets,
As I grew wiser, I likened us to a hurricane more and more,
As the months passed, and we trickled through the cracks more and more,
It became more apparent to me that, we were not a summer sunset,
We were a hurricane,
When things were good, we lived in the centre of the storm,
We had calm, and peace and we did not have to worry about the mass destruction going on around us,
However, like a hurricane, storms move quickly and safe havens in the centre change,
The only mode of survival to keep your place in the eye of the storm is to adapt,
To move quickly with the change and the direction of the storm,
So we tethered ourselves to each other, so that even if we were on opposite sides of the calm,
Too far to touch,
Too far to see,
We were still connected so that if the storm moved, we could move with it together,
The funny thing about hurricanes though, is that they move quickly,
And sometimes you do not always see them changing course and direction,
So in the midst of our perfectly calm centre, we were thrown off course, and thrown in opposite directions, our tether which was keeping us together, tangled and weakening,
In the midst of the storm, and our calm being thrown off you got scared because this was the worst it had ever been,
And our tether was so damaged, and so strained that it felt like we would always be too far to touch, and too far to see,
You took, action, you cut me off, severing our tether and suddenly, we were not in the safe place in the centre of the storm,
We were thrown in opposite directions, into the destructive, black swirling rings that we had avoided with such courage,

And so here I am, beat up, black and blue, trying to find my way back into the centre of the storm,
Silently praying that maybe you are too.

EMW.

You have no idea, how much I wish that I could take the pain away,
And replace your teary eyed nights,
With peaceful dream filled sleep,
My heart breaks, when I answer the phone to your tired voice,
Which is full of fear that you cannot shake,

I want you to know a few things,
I have told you them all before,

You are stronger than a million warriors charging into battle,
You posses more knowledge than the smartest people on the earth,
You are worth more than what people tell you and make you think,
You have wisdom beyond your years,
You have felt more pain than anyone should ever feel in their lifetime,

But you are a survivor,
Overcoming every hurdle with grace and dignity,
I don’t believe in a God,
But looking at you navigate life with such grace and pushing fear aside,
Makes me believe in you the way some people believe in a higher power,

You serve as my inspiration,
The person who I want to please with my success,
You are everything I want to be,
Because you,
Although scared, and frightened,
Have created, moulded and navigated your way to a place,
Where even though, there are still scared, tear-filled nights,
Is the right path and place for you to be.

―
Ellie White

I remember the first time I slept next to you,
Your body creating a silhouette underneath my sheets,
I remember thinking how odd it was,
That we could go from eight and needing a stuffed animal,
To eighteen and needing another human being to put us to sleep.

I remember the first time you kissed me,
Your lips on mine sending silent messages,
I remember thinking how odd it was,
That we could go from eight and our parents kissing us goodnight,
To eighteen and craving another human beings lips on ours.

I remember the first time you held my hand,
Your fingers intertwined into the slits between mine,
I remember thinking how odd it was,
That we could go from eight and our mothers pulling us by the hand across the street,
To eighteen and feeling loved and protected by another human being,

I remember the first time we ever fought,
Your words cutting through me like a knife,
I remember thinking how odd it was,
That we could go from eight and being taught only to say nice things,
To eighteen and using words to hurt another person,

I remember the first time we broke up,
Your actions, words, and events ringing in my head,
I remember thinking how odd it was,
That we could go from eight, and creating fairytales,
To eighteen and feeling crushed and unwanted beyond belief.  emw.

When you first met me, you told me that you were instantly intrigued,
"It was like a click,"
You said months later, pulling me closer to you like you would never let me go,
For a long time, I never understood what you meant by that,
However, I never questioned it,
Because we had each other, and we were knee deep in our fairytale.

Months later, we were savoring our rare and precious time with each other,
Lying side by side, on the damp cold grass of a football field,
The sky pitch black, except for little diamonds lighting up parts of the sky,
You looked at me, completely memorized by these small points of light,
"You love the stars, don't you Goof?"
You said, tracing my point of view with your eyes,
In my silence you found my answer,

To me, you see, stars were some mystery, beautiful points in the darkness,
Beacons of hope in a pitch black surface,
A safety place when all you see around you is darkness,

In that moment you took my hand, but instead of just holding it tight in yours,
You pointed our joined hands to the sky,
You revealed the most enchanting thing about you,
You picked out constellations in the night sky,
Telling me the stories of Cassiopeia, the Big Dipper, and the Little Dipper,
Soon, after months of you taking my hand, spinning me around and showing me these stars,
They became my constellations,
My Cassiopeia,
My small beacons of hope in the dark,

Only when things ended between us,
Did I finally understand what the click you felt when we met meant,
I didn't feel it in the beginning,
I didn't realize that the click was the beginning of our connection,
I didn't realize that the click was the beginning of our journey,
I didn't realize that the click was us falling for each other,

However, what I did realize,
Sitting alone, knowing my phone would never have your name on its screen again,
Was that even if you can't feel the click in the beginning,
You can sure as hell feel the pain of that click coming undone,
And all your small beacons of hope in the night sky,
Becoming beacons of unwanted memories surfacing every time the darkness crashes upon you.

-E.M.W

Some days, when the skies turn into dark, steely greys, and the rain pours down like the Gods are weeping, I make an effort to pull out the dusty box in the back of my closet. Within it, are memories that are better off forgotten. Everyone who has ever been a part of them, think that these ancient artifacts have been long destroyed, reduced to rubble, burned in fires too bright and strong to survive. However, these items, these photos, these ancient pieces from another era, another time, another life, are reminders of just how far I’ve come. I can pull out a hoodie, deep red, the colour of my blood on my sheets after you left and wrap myself in it to find comfort from the storm raging outside my window. You see, these memories are some things that may be better off erased and destroyed, but every once in a while, when the fragility of life is made apparent, you need to be able to pull out a dusty box, filled with belongings of your seventeen year old self, young and in love, fearlessly taking on and navigating the bumpy roads, of holding two lives in your hands, and working tirelessly to blend them together. You’ll fall in love again, maybe you already have, but you will never fall in love for the very first time again, and it’s important to physically be able to hold that too hot summer in your hands; where the weather only allowed you to sit by the water with the air conditioning on full blast, playing songs on a hand burned CD, talking about the future like you had a clue of what it would bring. It’s important to remember what being naïve and infinite was like. It’s important to be able to remember him. It’s important to let yourself remember him.

When you left,
My heart turned cold,
It grew distressed,
I became frustrated
My best was not good enough,
So that made me feel worthless,
My love was not enough for you to stay,
So I ran from myself as well, as if I were a plague to everyone,
Even to myself.

When you left,
I let the world make me hard,
I stopped caring,
Let myself fall deeper and deeper into the cracks of despair each day,
But with each day to the people around me,
I got better and better.

When you left,
I swallowed my pride,
I tried so hard to pick myself up,
To not care with the same validity that you had,
I tried to stop thinking about you like you never seemed to think about me,

When you left,
The memories followed me even into subconsciousness,
So I stopped sleeping,
At least awake I had some control over what occurred in my mind,
When I was asleep, you could touch me, kiss me, trace my skin with your fingertips,
You could whisper in my ear, lips brushing gently against my skin,
I could hear your voice, triumphantly exclaim your love for me,
Proud of what it could survive and what we had passed.

When you left,
I felt the agony of someone giving up on me,
When the weeks passed, and you didn't say anything,
I felt the pain of you forgetting fill my veins,
When I realized what I would have done for you,
I became enraged with myself,
Pounding myself for being so stupid to be willing to do so much,
And realizing that I would still do it today,
For a person who couldn't fight just a little bit harder.

When you left,
I felt our world crumble,
Leaving behind dust and rubble,
Faint outlines of once majestic castles.

When you left,
I picked myself up,
You are the only person in this world that I love,
But, I feel so small and worthless,
I'm giving up on you.

I used to count on my fingertips,
All the days which we had spent together,
The numbers grew and grew,
And each month, I was so surprised by how many days,
We had spent talking to each other,
Then, at midnight on the 9th you would call me,
And we would talk, and talk,
And remember,
And plan,
And then you would yawn,
Tell me that you love me so much,
And say:
“Good night Goof, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,as always,
I love you so much, you mean the world to me.”
The smile on my face would be enough to put me to sleep,
The sweetness of your words swirling in my head like a lullaby.

Slowly, without warning, you began to slip away,
But I still counted the days,
And for every new day that I counted and fell more in love,
You slipped further and further from me,
And more into your new world you had built,
There was no place for me,
No matter how many times you denied it.

Two months after I lost the privilege of calling you mine,
I still sit here on the eve of the 9th,
Counting my fingertips,
Only this time,
I am not counting the days which we have been together,
I am counting the days that we have been apart,
And there are no smiles,
Only tears streaming down my face.
emw

I have been told, by multiple people in the past few weeks that you do not deserve me,
I have been told, that you bowed out when I needed you the most,
I have been told, that you ran away as fast as your legs could carry you when you needed to plant those legs in the ground and fight like the knight in shining armor you once were.
I have been told, that I deserve more than what you could give me,
I have been told that a lesson will come from this,
I have been told that you will not always hold this constant, never ending, hold on my mind,
I have been told, that one day you will see what you are missing and regret your moves.

However, what these people who tell me all these things seem to forget is,
They were the one's that told me to take the leap,
They were the one's that told me you were worth the fall,
They were the one's that forged every move for you and I before we could make them ourselves,
They were the one's that planned out what we began,
They were the one's that sat on the sidelines and watched us embark on something all of us knew would end.

I have been trying to cut myself off from you,
But you remain my bloodline,
But you remain my oxygen,
But you remain my lifeline,
But you remain the reason to get out of bed,
But you remain in every memory,
But you remain ingrained in me,
But you remain in my memories,

Your remain in my memories,
No matter how hard I fight it,
No matter how hard I try not to think about you every minute of everyday,
No matter how little I sleep,
You still creep into the cracks in my mind,
And you still remain smiling, embracing me, telling me that you love me,
In my dreams.

I hope someday you stumble upon an old photo of us together,
Forever stuck in laughter, looking at each other,
Unaware that the photo was ever being taken,
Too involved in each other to hear someone say:
“Say cheese”
I hope that you wonder,
If I still drink coffee like it is a form of blood,
Or if I still make pinky promises because I believe that those can never be broken,
I hope you wonder,
If my favourite thing to eat is still grilled cheese,
Or if I still love midnight phone calls,
Or if I am still the same insomniac I was when I was with you,
I hope someday,
You stumble upon an old picture of me,
My eyes looking at you,
Forever smiling,
Because in that moment I loved you,
I hope some day,
You wonder about me,
And how I am doing,
And if I ever wonder about you.
emw

Allow me to always be the one to take over all your problems,
Or, if I cannot solve all your problems,
Allow me to stand next to you and fight in an armored battle as well,
However, if I cannot follow you into battle,
Allow me to watch and support you from the sidelines,
But, if I cannot be there to watch from the sidelines,
Allow me to be the one that you call to exclaim,
How ecstatic you are that you made it through the battle and back where you belong,
Stronger, wiser and more aware of what you want than before.
   EMW.

It is four a.m, and you are sleeping next to me,
There is no sound except for you breathing deeply next to me,
Slowly in and out,

The light which creeps in from the window,
Illuminates your features,
Your long eyelashes are cast in shadows across your rosy cheekbones even longer than they actually are,

You mutter incoherent things,
Tossing and turning,
Turning yourself away from me,

I edge myself closer to every new position you fold yourself into,
Sometimes there is no room for me,
The folds of your sleeping body too rigid, too guarded for me to get close,
So, I sit on the outskirts watching you,
Desperate for you to fold my body into yours,

Other times, your sleeping body is perfectly folded,
To allow myself to fold my body into yours,
My body folds into the crevices and hollows of your body like they were put there for the sole intention of making me feel safe

In these rare moments at four a.m,
I fold myself into you,
I mold my body to yours,
I burrow deep into the crevices of you,

You mutter something again,
This time much more coherent,
My name,
And then your sleeping body subconsciously pulls me closer to you.

And all of the sudden,
The world we had built,
Went  up in flames,
Crumbled to the ground,
And only existed to those searching for leftover pasts

E.W.M