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shiny objects

Monday, February 28, 2005


That's how it goes, right? Found you, had you, loved you, lost you. I wonder if you still think about me. I wonder what you'd say to me if you saw me now. Would you even speak? Would you pretend you didn't notice me, stare at the carpet, and walk away as fast as you can? Can you hear me? Do you even read this blog anymore?

I love you still. My best friend, my dear one, my little speck of gold, where are you now? How can you live in joyful memory and devistating reality at the same time? Can we ever bring this back? And what is this now? A crater? A blood-stain? A tombstone? A torn pocket?

To many questions. Always too many questions. You were here and it was great and then I killed you. But I didn't mean to do it.

I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, I really really didn't, but it doesn't matter anymore. You're already so far away that I can no longer see you smile.


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