#younglove Tumblr posts

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    He insists on walking back home after our evening classes and I always agree happily. We alternate between exchanging popsicle-kissed wholesome smiles and deep, unfiltered conversations by the riverside; and by the time we say our goodbyes by the corner of the old town library, I would have learned about a new constellation. We would spend most of our nights roaming around the empty streets of the old town, feet stomping against the cold rainwashed concrete as the summer winds whirl past our happy silhouettes. And the mornings that followed promised laughter upon every sappy poem we read sitting against the timbered walls of old bookshops, cheeky smiles we exchange when our favourite songs suddlenly play on the radio. If my summer with you came in colours,it would definitely be yellow; happy, bright and vibrant.

    But bitter end to an almost “us” embraced us that night when

    the wayfarer in him longed to be elsewhere and the silent lover in me let him go oh so easily. Yellows begin turn into shades of blue. Sunshine and smiles never got along. Poetries carried pain disguised as love.

    Happiness still bloomed but fits of unspoken sadness grew stronger. Walking alongside the regret of letting him go and a tiny hope to see him again, I have come a long way. Now every cloudless night, when the stars align and the moonbeam scatter across the old town, I gather all the bruised snippets of my unspoken beloved and start painting my life back to yellow.

    For whenever we meet from now, know that I have never missed a day telling Orion and Lyria about you.


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  • That was the time, I knew he’s the one for me. 

    His soul is embedded in my mind, in my heart and in my soul. 

    His arms are my home. His eyes are my paradise. 

    His voice that makes everything okay. 

    He is a strong man, a lighthouse that no waves can conquer. 

    You’re the one that i want to dance with, in a slow song under the lights.

    I always have this feeling of connection with you, like I’ve known you before. Also the feeling of us being lovers before we were even born in this world.

    But things may change, we can forget everything we had and walk away. I won’t beg you to stay, if we are really for each other then we’ll meet somewhere, at the right time.

    I understand the wars in your head.

    I accepted you for who you are.

    I love you, I’ll always do.

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  • And there I was

    Standing next to the man with a brilliant and extensive intellect

    Who had travelled the world

    Who had shook the prime minister’s hand for a 7am meeting

    And there I was

    Teaching him how to bake apple cinnamon muffins

    There we were

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    James Joyce: “At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer. She asked me was I going to Araby. I forgot whether I answered yes or no. It would be a splendid bazaar; she said she would love to go.” https://americanliterature.com/author/james-joyce/short-story/araby

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  • I want to smoke you

    Inhale you deep into my lungs, like a blunt.

    I want to drink you, neat like a whiskey

    let you sting my lips before you burn my tongue. 

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  • Why did I search for you. 

    Why didn’t I just let you go, let you be a distant memory. 

    Why didn’t I just leave it alone, stop looking for you, you don’t matter anymore.

    I found you.

    I forgot everything that’s happened. 

    But then I read all of our shit; all the notes I found about you, the posts I made, and songs I wrote about you. 

    I loved you, as much as my 15 year old heart was able to comprehend. 

    Why didn’t I just leave you in the past. 

    Why did I do this again. 

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  • Thirty minutes before the concert starts, they decided to waste their money on arcade. Everyone’s playing, she was on the claw machine and he was on the car race thing, After not winning any stuffed toy, she walked to the basketball.

    “ Hey, come sit here “ he pointed on the empty care race seat beside him.

    “ What is it? huh “ she sat facing him.

    “ I’ll win this race for you “ he smirked.

    “ Oh boy, i won last time when you lost “ she chuckled.

    “ Just sit and watch me “ 

    The game started, he’s focused on the game while she watched his cars overtaking the other cars. She knew that time he’ll win.

    “ Those cars are fucking cool and expensive, someday i’ll buy that but for now i’ll ride tricycle “ she said brushing her hair with her fingers.

    “ Don’t worry when we get married, you’ll never ride tricycle anymore cos i’ll drive you always with my red mustang “  He looked at her, sternly.

    She was shocked on what he said but she  knew that time that it may change.

    “ Don’t look at me, please focus on the game! “ she pointed on the screen ang laughed.

    At then end he won.

    Not just the race,

    but also her heart.

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  • She was wearing a royal blue gown, he was wearing a black turtle neck and a black suit with a silver chain necklace. She expected already that he would look nice, because she knew he is handsome enough. He sat behind her, she keep on turning her head just so she can talk to him. His crush walked in front of them and he said “ She’s so beautiful “ and “ She’s my baby “ while she is looking at the girl just admiring how beautiful she really is and why she can’t be like her. 

    “ The dance floor is now open ! “ the host said cheerfully.

    The slow music starts playing.

    He lend his hand for a dance and even though she still hurting, she accept it gladly still smiling….weakly. He put his hands on her waist and she also did on his shoulder, while they are holding each others hand tight. She was looking at him as he sang the song for her, the lights went off that made the moment even more romantic. 

    She rested her head to his chest, and closed her eyes. They look like they are in a movie scene, with a pleasing soundtrack. 

    “ You’re beautiful not just this night but all the time “  he said resting his chin on her head.

    “ Well, you look more even handsome tonight “ she slightly chuckled looking up on him.

    She admire him for few seconds, and wondered what will it be like if he was hers. They continue to dance, she again put her head back on his chest. He kissed her head before the song end.

    The prom was already done but the spirit of it is still there. They said goodbye to each other, and went to their separate way. They both wished that they will still be classmates in the new school. She sat on the side on the road outside the school, removing her heels because her feet hurts from partying. She waited for her cousin who is talking to her boyfriend.

    It’s 2am, she can’t sleep because her spirit was left on the dance floor , still partying. She sat by the window looking at the sky, counting all the stars while drinking coffee. ‘ Is there somewhere? ‘ by Halsey starts playing on her spotify as she remember every moments from earlier, specially the one with him. They are both each other’s first and last dance that night.

    ‘I’m sorry but I fell in love tonight
    I didn’t mean to fall in love tonight
    You’re looking like you fell in love tonight
    Could we pretend that we’re in love?’

    The lyrics made her heart ache, and also made her realize something. She hates falling in love, she hates to admit it; she hates that she fell in love with her best friend, who is also in love but not with her. But who cares? they are both in love that night, might as well pretend to be in love with each other.

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  • If you want my opinion on the matter, We both want us, we won’t get us, but I would never change a single thing about us.

    #love hearts brokenhearts younglove poetry
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  • At what point does young love transition into old love, 

    or older love? 

    medium love? 

    midway love? 

    I feel this pining, 

    this ache, 

    this slow burn yet persistent pressure of a yerning 

    of desire, 

    I feel it out of sight, 

    I feel it after a while, 

    I feel it when I likely should not. 

    what age love is that?

    is it young because it hasn’t really started walking? 

    is it young because I am young? 

    or is it something in between cause we are both somewhere in between, 

    and past love ages you too, 

    faster than most things, 

    can that push it to midlife? 

    can it be old love if it it’s still near conception, 

    but somehow feels like it’s the soft bit of grass you are meant to touch down on, 

    when you finally drift down after a tireless sky dive, full of backflips, and fear, and joy, 

    the place you are meant to place your feet, 

    after all the summersaults the throws that love and wind have already given you. 

    the comfort and safety of coming home. 

    How can you feel like that you me? 

    How can I feel a longing, a true longing after so much times, and so few interactions? 

    How can you feel like should when hardly anything else in my life has ever felt like that. 

    how are you feel so certain when I’ve been certain about to little in life. 

    are you old love? are you grown love? 

    could you be? 

    for me. 

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    I love you forever and ever. Laking pasalamat ko na nakilala kita at naging bahagi ka ng buhay ko. Ayoko na mawala sayo at ayoko nang mawala ka sakin. Akin ka na lang habang buhay ha? Mahal na mahal kita Emon. 💛

    #Lablab#younglove #how i feel
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  • Summary: Prisha asks Violet a very important question during coloring time <3

    Read on A03: 

    Things were calm for once in Ms. Martin’s kindergarten classroom. The kids were in coloring time right now. Sprawled across the classroom rugs, they each had their paper and crayons and were working busily on their masterpieces. Prisha knelt on the rug as she worked on her drawing of a castle. Meanwhile Violet lay on her stomach beside her, adding even more stars to her drawing.

    Prisha looked over at Violet’s artwork. “Your stars look pretty. I wish I could draw them like that,”

    “Thanks,” A small smile spread across Violet’s face at the compliment. “Gamma taught me how to do them. She knows how to do lots of stuff ‘cuz she’s super old,” She glanced over at Prisha’s paper. “What’re you making?”

    “A castle,”

    “Does anybody live in it?”

    “Maybe, but I’m not gonna draw them. I’m gonna add a ton of turret onto it, like these,” She pointed to one of the thin towers rising from the castle. “I read about them in one of the classroom books. People use them to fight the bad guys when they come to the castle,”

    “Is the castle gonna have a name?” Violet asked, looking at her paper curiously. “Mitch said all the cool buildings get names,”

    Prisha considered the question for a moment before grabbing a purple crayon from her pile and neatly printing something along the bottom of her paper. It took her a few minutes, but when she was done, she proudly picked up her paper to show it to Violet. “Tada!”

    Violet squinted at the words, trying her best to read them. “C..aa…ss.. That’s castle, right?”

    “Uh huh,”

    “V..i… Wait, is that my name?”

    “Yep! Prisha nodded happily. “It’s Castle Violet! Maybe when we grow up we could live there!”

    Violet’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Castles aren’t real,”

    “Yeah they are! We’d just have to live somewhere else. The book says there are lots in England,”

    “Where’s that?”

    Prisha shrugged. “I don’t know. But if it has castles, then it’s must be cool,”

    Violet nodded thoughtfully at her friend’s statement. “Yeah,” She paused, looking over at Prisha who was busy adding flags to her castle. “I’d like to live there with you,”

    “Me too!” Prisha smiled and Violet felt a smile return to her own face again.

    They resumed their coloring in silence. Prisha was busy coloring in her castle while Violet tried to choose a good blue for the night sky. Suddenly Prisha looked up from her work and over at Violet. “Would you like to be my wife?”

    “Like someday?”

    “No, now,”

    “Well, what would we do?”

    “Share crayons. Sit together at lunch and play together at recess. And promise we’ll be together forever,”

    Violet considered the offer carefully. She did like playing with Prisha a lot. And staying together forever… that sounded really nice. She turned to Prisha with a smile and nodded. “OK!”

    Prisha’s face lit up at the news. “Hooray!” she exclaimed, before lowering her head in embarrassment when Miss Martin shushed her. Quietly, she reached out to her crayon pile and pushed it next to Violet’s so that all the crayons mixed together. “I’m gonna draw you next,” Prisha declared, flipping over her paper.

    “I’ll draw you too,” Violet decided. She could finish her star picture later.

    Violet sat at her desk, looking at the valentine before her. Miss Martin had passed them out and told the kids to make valentines for their parents. Violet didn’t really want to do that though. Her dad would never see it if she brought one home and her mom would be too tired to look at hers. Glancing over, Violet noticed Prisha was working hard on her card. That was when inspiration struck. She’d make a card for Prisha!

    Violet immediately got to work, picking out a green crayon to write Prisha’s name. She paused as soon as the crayon touched the paper though. How did you spell Prisha? Leaning forward, she looked at the top of Prisha’s desk where her name was neatly printed and taped down. It took a lot of checking, but eventually she had her whole name written. What else should she say though? Violet chewed on the bottom of her crayon thoughtfully, searching for inspiration.

    Looking over at Prisha, their eyes met this time. Prisha smiled at Violet, lifting her card to show Violet her hard work. It looked really pretty. Her eyes looked really pretty too, brown and warm. What did they remind her of? Violet pondered this question for a minute, thinking of all the brown things she could. Trees, tables, sometimes dogs… suddenly the answer came to her. Choccy milk! Her eyes looked just like the milk her gamma would make her when Violet spent the night. Violet set to work crafting her message. She got pretty far before getting stumped again. Violet raised her hand for help.

    “What is it, sweetie?” Ms. Martin asked warmly, coming over to stand behind her.

    “How do you spell choccy?”

    “Chalky? Oh, you mean chocolate,”

    “No, choccy,”

    Miss Martin’s brows knit in confusion. “Well, let me see what you’re writing, honey,” She picked up the card, beginning to read. “Violet, this has Prisha’s name on it. You’re supposed to be writing a card for your parents,”

    Louis, Violet’s desk mate, perked up at those words. “We can make cards for other people?” He immediately flipped his heart over, beginning to color on the back. “I’m making one for Clem!”
    The classroom immediately devolved into excited exclamations and hurried whispering as everyone decided which classmate they wanted to make their card for. Miss Martin raised her hands for silence, quickly silencing the class. ‘Now everybody, remember to use inside voices. If you want, you can make two cards. Finish the one for your mom or dad, and once you’re done I’ll give you another heart to make a valentine for a classmate. I have plenty,”

    With that decided, the kids returned to their original valentines, trying to finish them as quickly as possible so they could move on to the next ones. Miss Martin gave Violet a new heart for the parent card. Violet glared at it in annoyance. She sloppily scrawled down “Mom” and “Dad” before tossing the heart to the side and getting back to the Valentine she really cared about. Miss Martin was called over to help her spell “choccy”, then Violet began decorating her heart with lots and lots of stars since she knew Prisha liked how she drew them.

    Everything looked perfect. Was something missing though? Violet looked from her valentine to the example one Miss Martin had drawn on the board. On one side was the message, then on the other there was a part that said “To:” and “From:”. Violet flipped her heart back and forth as she copied down Prisha’s name again. All that was left was the “From:” and her name. Violet got back to work, determined to make this the best card ever.

    Once craft time was done, everyone got up to give each other their Valentine’s cards. Miss Martin had checked who each kid was giving their valentine too, making sure that everyone in the class would receive a card. Violet scampered over to Prisha, holding her heart behind her back nervously. Prisha offered her card first, smiling proudly as she displayed her work. She’d cut up some of the doilies that Miss Martin had brought in and used them all along the edges of her card to make it look fancy like the cards Miss Martin had showed them. One side had flowers drawn all over it. The other side had words. In the middle the card read:

    “To my wife Violet.

    It was so pretty. Violet didn’t think she’d ever gotten such a pretty card in her life. She gently stroked the edge of the card before remembering she still had to give her card to Prisha. Awkwardly, she thrust her hand out in front of her, offering Prisha the card. She wished she could have made it as pretty as Prisha’s was.

    Prisha took the card in her hands, examining it thoughtfully. The corners of the heart were absolutely covered in all sorts of stars. Big, small, some yellow, some white. In the center one side read:

    “To: Prisha
    From: Yur wif”

    Prisha grinned excitedly before flipping the card over. The other side read:

    “Yur eys look lik
    Choccy milk”

    Violet watched Prisha nervously as she read the message. Did she do it right? Would Prisha like what she said?

    As Prisha’s eyes rose to meet hers, Violet knew she didn’t need to be worried.

    “Vi, I love it!” Prisha squealed. She threw her arms around her, picking Violet off the ground and spinning the shorter girl around excitedly.

    “Prisha, what did we say about picking people up?” Miss Martin’s voice was calm but firm.

    “Sorry!” Prisha exclaimed, quickly setting Violet down. She was still smiling as she looked back at Violet. “Happy Valentine’s Day,”

    Violet met her smile in kind, a warm excitement lighting up her heart. “Happy Valentine’s Day,”

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  • You’re minding your business and you turn around,

    Your eyes fall on his smiling face, your heart skips a beat-

    You want to know him.

    Shy as you are, a friend builds your courage to talk to him.

    The more you do, the more you realise-

    You’re in love.

    Your heart is happy, your mind is racing, wondering if he feels the same.

    You work up the nerve to tell him, things are different now.

    You’re happy to be with him, your heart is full-

    You think nothing can ruin this.


    - A.W.

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  • remember that night in your car, when we just sat there talking and laughing? when we finally learned what was going on in each others lives. that night in your car where we both felt the connection we’d desperately been missing for months. we smiled and looked at each other feeling totally comfortable with one another’s presence. that night in your car where you kissed me for the first time in months. your protective and gentle hands pulled my body close while our lips entangled each other. our bodies expressed what we both still felt. remember the smiles between each kiss? i do.

    i do because that night in your car i finally knew you were the one. i knew i’d have to wait, and that it would be hard, but that night i knew. i knew i loved you.

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