...

To know that you feel the same as I do
Is a three-fold Utopian dream
You do something to me, that I can't explain.

Everything I did the past few days is considered a sin.
Days? Weeks? No maybe months.
Not only to one person, but there's two of them.
Or maybe not just two.

I realized I never let go. Never did, never knew when.

I always find myself, reminiscing and crying.

It's foolish. I know.
I'm sorry to whoever might read this bunch of crap.

Would I be out of line if I say I miss you?
No. I miss you too.
- June 20, 2008.