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I like to think of myself as an old leather journal, with thick pages that have dark ink scribbled all over them. There are lines through entire pages, and ink blots where great ideas have flowed. Yet all the same I am someone to cherish, to remember

Message from Writer

"But here is the truth of nostalgia: we don't feel it for who we were, but who we weren't. We feel it for all the possibilities that were open for us, but that we didn't take."
-Welcome to Night Vale

Not Cliché

January 21, 2016


I’m never one for cliches,
but I believe it’s fairly ture.
I swear that it is me,
It’s got nothing to do with you.
I am -
(terrified. horribly and utterly terrified. I’ve never loved someone so much in my life. I can’t imagine losing you, but I feel like I already am. Oh god my hands are shaking. I can barely place this glass on the table without spilling it all over. I thought this would be good to do. Maybe, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m not actually losing you. Maybe I’m just imagining it. But then again. Maybe if I tell you, if I tell you then you will fight for me. You’ll stand up, leaving behind the shell of the man you're becoming and rise as the man I fell in love with. So fight for me, prove that you love me too; because I can’t stand feeling this way anymore. I’m doing this for help. I’m doing this so that you will look hurt and scared, and so that I can explain that it’s because I feel like I’m losing you.  Then you’ll stand up and say that I’m not losing you, that it’s all in my head. And I’ll fall into your arms and everything will be ok. Because I can’t lose you. I have to do this so that I won’t lose you, even though I am)
- Breaking up with you.



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