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August 19, 2004
I worry about the past four and a half years being lost, like memories scraped off the bone until all that is left is the fact that we were together. Memories that will run through our heads like something watched and enjoyed in a movie. All the promise of our yearning faded and now he's just wistful for something that was good that he once had. Two heads on a pillow, an intimate knowledge of another person never known by others, dinners shared, spoons and plans and love made, photos taken, hands held.

Trampled by the heavy footfalls of time.