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November 7, 2011
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Last week, you showed up with the thunder on my doorstep.

Your voice was so drenched with the rain that I almost didn't recognize the way you said my name. It hung in the air like an incomplete sentence, like something unfamiliar, like you were so lost from trying to find everything we left behind and piece it back together that you couldn't find me in your heart anymore. It was pouring and the power was out and I was so tired of watching the world fall apart from outside my windows that I let you back inside my arms and inside my senses, and your bones were shaking as you clung to me and told me how good it felt to come back home.

There was something forced in our actions, as if we were going through the motions of something we had practiced a hundred times before. Your lips were all orchestrated movements against mine and the arch of your back and shudder of your breath felt rehearsed, so that when you lay tangled and spent in my bedsheets I let my mouth wander the terrain of your shoulder and tried to trace our timeline back to the moment I stopped loving you, to the moment you became a memory of someone else's lifetime. I kissed your skin and wondered when you became a brief, familiar instant that passed over me like a shadow.

I should admit that when you were gone the next morning, I didn't look for you. I drank my coffee like nothing happened and locked my door when the sun set; I turned off the porch lights and slept on the couch in case my pillowcase still smelled like the soft waves of your hair. Three nights ago, I pressed my hipbones into a shift stick and fogged up the windows when my lips collided with someone new in the front seat of her car, and I think maybe I scared her because I think I kissed her as if she were you, and honestly, I didn't want to.

Tonight, the heavens feel heavy and the sky is getting darker and I'm hoping that the worst of you has passed. I'm hoping that this is the calm and not the storm, and maybe one day I'll wake up without feeling the aftershocks of your natural disaster.
saudade- n., portuguese refers to the feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost
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Daily Deviation

Given 2012-04-13
saudade is a curious vignette on love by ~SocraticSynapses. ( Suggested by Magnius159 and Featured by wreckling )
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introverted-ghost Featured By Owner Feb 22, 2014   Writer
Really lovely.
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seyyah61 Featured By Owner Jul 10, 2013
I finally made a life changing decision this was the perfect solution now I feel whole again just trying to look out for you
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syneczek Featured By Owner Jul 9, 2013   Writer
Benefits of Losing Those Extra Pounds
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postage-due Featured By Owner Sep 16, 2012
This is a familiar story in that I'm sure everyone can relate. The descriptions are so refreshing and unique, even through they describe something so very poignant.
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:iconmariellaaa:
mariellaaa Featured By Owner Aug 1, 2012  Hobbyist Photographer
so good :X
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:iconfrenetic-ride:
frenetic-ride Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
this makes a lot of sense :)
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:iconthatenglishguy:
thatenglishguy Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2012
An amazing piece, one that I really enjoyed reading :-)
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