I missed you. Yes YOU.
I missed talking to you. I missed putting my soul onto paper which has always made it easier for me to get in terms with all that has been, with all my hesitations and fears.
Writing, guys, you might think it’s hard.
Sleeveless Fur Coat Misguided (here) // Mango Skinny Jeans (here) // River Island Black Pointed Boots (here) // Levis Long Line Denim Jacket (here) // Serpent Petrol Gold Bag (here) // Daniel Wellington Watch (here) // T-shirt Cheap Monday (here)
Writing is an eaaaaaase A! Once you go for it, once you start scribbling down the text – all your feelings get transformed into yet another story to be told.
And with time I had led myself believe that when my pain’s on paper – I’m no longer entitled to it which makes me feel incredibly free.
Just a week before heading back home where reality is waiting with her hands crossed before her corps, for the first time I feel like holding back.
I need to let it all sink in first, I need to understand and one day hopefully accept all that’s taken place since I left Bulgaria a few months back.
One thing I know for sure – my idea of ‘back home’ will never be the same.
Because it’s not ‘home’ we miss when we are abroad. It’s the people.
And here I’m a couple of days away from walking ‘our’ streets, breathing the air of the past, and forcing myself to acknowledge that she won’t be coming from around the corner to meet up with me.
As I said ‘I miss talking to you’, but before I speak up again, I need to get off the plane first and let my past, present & future greet.
Until then I refuse to dress myself in black and choose to go for white instead.
White coz ‘pure as a little child’ is what my heart says, and ’til eternity’ what my soul narrates.
My Snow White. That’s she’d always be.