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Tiptoe, quiet.

Monday, June 14, 2010

I let them go.

Timing. I'm sorry that it did not work in our favor. Sometimes I wish that we could be friends. At this point it's entirely inappropriate. What would we say? What bond exists? Nothing to say, no bond. I'm different and I can't seem to remember who I was with you. Fragments. It's rather surreal and dreamy. I do hope that you're well.


Posted by Marie at 9:50 PM

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