I stared up at the moon last night as I walked home in the cold.
It made me think of you.
I know you look up at the moon when you’re missing someone, we’re alike in that way.
We’re alike in so many ways, it’s ridiculous.
I should stop missing you, but I don’t know how.
Four months until I might see you again.
I always tell myself next time it will be different.
It never is, but sometimes I like to lie to myself.
I’m living a lie and I just can’t hide from it.
(Source: ieatrabbits, via theesarad)
