he kissed me under the omela a year ago.
this was probably the most amazing 3 days we spent together when i came to england for christmas. i had no doubts, the least amount of insecurities, and a lot of love for him. we chased each other and laughed and played and had sex and drank wine.

due to the lack of any romance in my life at the moment memories strike me, especially considering the place i spend most of my days at. how he kissed my neck for the first time ever in the laundry room. how he used to hug me so i could barely breathe after a long time we haven't seen each other.

it is quite satisfying to watch those memories lose their strength once exactly one year from this moment passes. he finally fades away. i finally don't want this to happen again. i am laughing at my misery.