mainsqueeze's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- more just underneath I was reading through my old entries and I realized that what I was trying to say the whole goddamn time was this: But that life, that love? A distant memory. I haven't thought of you in about a week or so, not once until today. When people talk about growing apart over time, what they really mean is that they chose to shove themselves away but they don't want to feel bad about it... so they try to make it sound natural. We "grew apart." You grew apart from me, and you grew apart from the things that used to be important to us. Hell, maybe it's time for me to grow apart, too. I think I'm doing okay. The only thing that still bothers me is that the more I learn about you, the things other people saw that I didn't, the less true my memories seem. Because I swore you loved me, too. I would have fucking bet everything I had on it, but now? Maybe that can be your gift, though-- You make people feel special, and you make people feel loved. It isn't a bad thing, but I would have taken the truth any day. 4:42 p.m. - 2005-07-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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