your disposition makes me sad because the thing is, it should matter. (and i am sorry.) i hate having to be the one to tell you that, because it really ought to be the other way around.
have you ever seen a person break?
the things i thought i knew, and the places i thought i'd see, are coming undone right before me and i'm too tired to try and put it back together. there's beauty in destruction, when all we have is the idea. it's almost funny how things work out sometimes, leaving you where you began, wondering if everything happens for a reason.*
it almost feels like there's a due date on everything, a permanent time stamp. we can't just be without thinking about the next, the coming, the awaited. the end is always in sight, in every sense of the word, the only difference being this time i'd rather (be able to) leave without missing anything/anyone.
she says we'll run out of things to talk about. our lives will diverge and we'll part, knowing perfectly well what could have been, but resigned to the fact that it never will be. and thus the world spins around yet again, bringing with it every day the hope of another abandoned tragedy to kill all your dreams.
old habits?
maybe.
for better or for worse, i'm yet to figure out.
*of course, this is just a ploy to kid yourself into thinking circumstances are entirely out of your control.
well that was redundant.
(if you knew, you would.)