read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

June 27, 2006
It's so much easier to die for someone than to live your life for them. But the stained mug and the scattered sheets of paper on my table tell me that I will. I know you're no longer there, but I tell myself that just because I don't see you doesn't mean you don't see me. So I hold true to myself and you, and try to be the person I think you'd have wanted me to be. I breathe for you, still, chasing after the ghosts of the past. But you're no longer there, and I'm no longer alive.