twenty-eight march
twelve : forty-two p.m.

i remember everything. always.

and i hate being one of those "oh i'm so sad i hate myself my life your life all the time everything is bad" girls, but that's how it feels this week. i'm sorry.

she worries about me, and i don't want her to, because i don't want her to think or know that i can't do it on my own.

a few autumns ago : sitting on the roof leaned against the house looking towards your house wishing to see you walking across the field coming to see me you could climb up onto the roof my roof and we could sit and listen to the music of the band you introduced to me and sang to me over the phone while your parents listened from the next room over.

music : sunny day real estate live
literature : nothing
fixation : ev