her dress was a ship at sail (bnh) wrote,
her dress was a ship at sail
bnh

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i know i can love you much better than this

The problem is, sometimes I want to cry (sometimes under the influence of estrogen or progesterone or some other premenstrual thing) and there's never one thing that'll do the trick. It's sometimes Casablanca and it's sometimes old journal entries, and it's sometimes a song even if I can never recall it, and it's sometimes abuse (more than I'd like to admit, it's abuse past or present), and it's sometimes nothing. It just never seems to be there when I actually want it.

And who ever thought that time would pass so quickly? Who could have predicted what happened? Who would've thought that this was how things would turn out? It's been almost three years (over three years, depending on what you're talking about), and it still hangs heavy on my heart sometimes, but this summer especially.

And we're almost there, funny how it takes a combination of things sometimes, and it's almost always memories.
Tags: introspective, the past
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