Current Music: Death Cab for Cutie - Tiny Vessels
Story of my fucking life.
At this point, it is painful to listen to the words that echo all the fears I have. That I am that girl, who doesn't mean a thing. That I'm deluded into believing I was of some importance.
Eventually, it will all fade away.
I don't do well with endings and it's showing. This was a 500 word story at best and I would have handled this more bitter, less sweet ending had there been a bit more plot beforehand. It's the relationship version of a murder scene, with only the most vague inkling of why he's stabbing and she's screaming.
Between sweating and crying, I'm a dried out husk.
The ice had been melting away with nothing but dried, cracked mud underneath. A trick of the light lied all winter about refreshing depths and crystal clear promises.
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