Airborne Again

Dear Diary,

I’m airborne again. I’m dreaming of flying and waking up as I hit the ground at his feet, staring at dusty shoes planted firmly on solid ground.

I’m the kind of person who loves love and wants the wanting. The type of person who runs from runaways and writes poems about poetry.

I swear I craved him, just not as much as I feared having him. But unrequited love still hurts, even when it’s a blanket you claim to burn under but secretly find safety in.

I spoke in bold words and laughed in loud tones, all the while knowing he’d break my heart no matter what.

I have a confession. I love love. But not as much as I adore heartbreak. I want to fly, but sometimes I just fall to hit the ground.

From,

Another Broken Heart

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