The first half of the year feels like a mix of a wonderful dream and a nightmare, and like most of my nighttime visions, the memory of which is slowly slipping from my mind.
Was there really a time that you were a touch away?
Looking back, and looking back rationally, all the things you did that I've shared with my friends in giddy retellings had been lackluster. They weren't enough. Took me so long that realize that this particular story isn't about me, or that you weren't the main character.
I've been waiting for a closure, for a chance to ugly-cry in front of you and admit that I've been careless enough to jump into a pool that was already draining away, to ask you all my whys and hows and 'were-those-things-real' question and I realize that that's not going to happen. Whatever they say about pride, mine is rock-solid. There is this Au that always tell all these million other Aus that to feel something deeply is cheesy and disgusting.
She may be harsh, but she is right. Some things-- and people-- are not worth the feels.
Sometimes, all you need is a June 1. Thank God that is all I need.