So it’s valentines day tomorrow and although some of y’all are in love and happy-

there are a fair few of us who are less so.

so, instead of having someone to love,

I write about it-



And she was. Not in how she looked. Not in how she sang. But in who she was. The way her mind worked and calculated, the cogs that turned there whirred faster than her fingers tap, tap, tapping at the desk because her thoughts they work too fast to stay inside her and


And he was. Not in how he was. Not in how he looked. But in how he sang. The way each note rang out like the cleanest chime of a bell on a clear summer’s day. The way the emotion was thick in every syllable that left his mouth.


And they were. Not in how they sang. Not in how they were. But in how they looked, how they looked at each other. The way each one seemed so deeply immersed in the others’ eyes, like all that ever was or would, or could, be with tattooed in the iris of the other and

It’s beautiful.

The way they fit together, not even like two pieces of a puzzle, but like magnets, as though it was physics bringing them together,

And how can you deny science?


Love, Hea xxx

Author: hopingeverafter

i’m a 15 year old girl who loves nothing more than putting a pen to paper. there's something beautiful about manipulating the English language to provoke an emotion, and it's what I love to do. if you have anything to say about my blog then I'd love you to.

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