certain memories find their ways into your heart. sometimes it takes someone to say something for them to remember. sometimes it takes the same scene for it to all go reeling like a tape set on rewind. sometimes it takes in the form of a person, or a thing, or a phrase. and most of the time, it takes in the form of emptiness--of something missing or lacking in the picture that you swore you had, before all of this.
pms-ing [plus the cramps. good lord, help me,]. and my best buddy for this is a bottle of wine. wee.
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