im really sad for my best friend. i cry when i think about her sitting in her car listening to this run over and over again. and i cant help her. because whenever i hear this song, i think about last summer. when i thought it was all over, and it was my fault. for some reason, i still cant get past it all. its constantly there, prevalent and powerful, and it comes up out of nowhere. i see my record player and i think about writing him a letter listening to seven swans on a tuesday morning, alone, in oakie house. and im there again. and i drive past starbucks on 21st and im there, sobbing on the phone with my dad. wanting him so bad to just stop talking. stop forever talking. and then its again, when we are about to go out, im gone. im in the parkinglot outside of us pizza on dickson screaming, curled up on the pavement. cause she's gone. really gone and ive never been so sure of something.
healing's a joke. memory is the only thing that you can count on. i hope everyday to forget enough.
i miss not remembering. i miss it all the time.
from a light in august:
Memory believes before knowing remembers. Believes longer than recollects, longer than knowing even wonders.
ok. preston and i are going to get hotdogs and talk about books :)
but one more time. maybe i wouldve been something youd be good at.
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