what tomorrow brings.

viii. versions of you.

viii. VERSIONS OF YOU.

i often wonder what certain words sound like out of your mouth. playfully telling me to shut up when a sarcastic remark has the stiff air around us loosen, your laugh that will come along with a horrible joke you heard from work that morning. the sleepiness in your voice when you say good morning, ask me what's for breakfast when i'm half asleep myself. the "how's your day been" nights while eating take out, a movie whispering in the background.

i often wonder why my heart always leaps to the most obvious. how i love you, i miss you, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, the reason for the light behind my eyes- comes so much more easily. how i'm stuck in silence and my silence turns into thoughts and suddenly i'm left thinking of an us; you holding me in the kitchen, our feet cold against the tile as we sway quietly. the way you hum my favorite song.

i'm only left with heartbreak when the moon slowly waves goodbye because thoughts and wonder are all i'll ever know when it comes to you. at least the version of you i have sculpted it out to be loves me more than you could ever dream of.