Thursday morning rain and flashbacks of what used to be. I read through some of your old love letters to me last night. I still haven't decided if it was a good idea or not. Your words would always hit me like a shot through the heart and in some twisted long distance out of this world kind of way, they still do. It still baffles me how vivid the memories are. How crystal clear every memory of every movement we made together is. It's quite tiring if anything. Beautiful, but tiring. There are times i pick my phone up, dial your number, take two deep breaths, think of how i have no idea what i would say, then put the phone right back down again. I don't know.. I guess i blame the rain. The beautiful, painful, tainted rain.
Ingen kommentarer:
Legg inn en kommentar