I could write about you forever, and that’s exactly the problem.
Cause I need to forget you in order to let you go, but somehow I still remember the exact way you pronounce your words. I have absolutely no idea who I am—I don’t know a thing about myself, nut goddamn I could write a novel about you. I need to get over you, but you’re the one thing I’ve ever known like the back of my hand and everything finds its way back to you.
I could write about you forever, and I don’t have a problem with that, but I think I should.
PS: I miss you, every single day.
From: (I Hope Still) Your Babygirl
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