May 25, 2009 monday - 00:26
this is the way you smell after you shower.
this is the mixture of concern and disdain you have for me, and that i have for you. both caring too much, and too little, and in all the wrong ways.
time passes. a day, a week, half a year, five years. yet the old heartache is still there, and the same songs bring the same pain. i am back in the kitchen of my old hall, reading someone else's notes for an exam i am so sure i will screw up, microwaving frozen dinners at 3 in the morning. the green plastic chairs and the melamine table. and heartache so pure and beautiful i thought i would shatter.
but in time, not all things will last the way this has.