We spoke once about lovers who kept finding each other, no matter how many times the world came between them. And I think I had to break your heart, and you had to break mine. How else could we know the worth of what we were given?
Yes, we took it all for granted-but isn’t that such a blessed thing? When you’re not even thinking about what you have, because you never imagine you someday won’t.
I think there is a sense of ownership in knowing, isn’t there? You let people in, and they claim parts of you-they fly their flag over uncharted territory and from then onward-you cease to belong wholly to yourself.
You’re still crying about him aren’t you? Silly girl. What good will it do you to spill those sky blu tears? You meant either everything to him or absolutely nothing at all.
