I am unsure as to what I’m trying to accomplish in writing this. I guess this is just to acknowledge the fact that I know we’ve grown into our own. You into your niche, I into mine. That doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to miss the way we used to laugh together; it doesn’t mean I can’t think about how we did things spontaneously; it doesn’t mean I can’t wish that we still had heart to hearts laying on our backs in the dark. Sometimes I think that me fucking up was even necessary. Like somehow inadvertently I was keeping you from doing your own thing and meeting the people that actually make you happy. But who knows now? The only thing I know is this sort of void that I’ve forgiven myself for.

 
Opaque  by  andbamnan