Done. She sat alone, pondering the thoughts she never said aloud. Why do I care? Why I must I hold back something which has never been held, in but a few short, rapid moments. Comparing everything to comfort and memories, memories I could never get back. It's more than longing, it's pausing. Knowing I could never get back what I once had, I rewind and come to a complete stop and refute against my feelings. Even though every feeling felt like a million dollars, why is my heart broke? At the presence of his being, confronting face to face, I would be averse with utter peace. Because I have confidence in the fact my heart wasn't a broken record, my memories were just stuck on replay. I'm ready she says, once more.
Мне нравится
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