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Somewhere between βI rememberβ and βI don't care anymore,β there is an entire version of you
that nobody ever gets to meet.
Repost from Last Song
Ϊ©Ψ§Ψ΄ ΩΫΪΩΩΨͺ Ψ’Ψ―Ω
Ψ§ ΨΉΩΨΆ ΩΩ
ΫΨ΄Ψ―Ω
ΫΩ Ψ³Ψ±ΫΨ§Ψ΄ΩΩΩ ΩΨ§ΩΨΉΨ§ Ψ§Ψ² ΨͺΩ Ψ―Ω Ψ―ΩΨ³Ψͺ Ψ―Ψ§Ψ΄ΨͺΩ
.
You constantly hate on ppl? I donβt judge you heal yourself
Life has gotten so strange sometimes you just donβt know how to put it into words.
Thereβs no revenge here. We both messed up. You couldnβt love me the way you should have, and I couldnβt bring myself to leave you.
Maybe some people don't enter your life to stay.
Maybe they come just long enough to change the meaning of a song forever.
Adulting is realizing that sometimes you make decisions you just have to learn to live with and grieve.
There are things I never threw away not because I still need them, but because they once belonged to a version of me I loved.
Perhaps the saddest kind of nostalgia
is missing a life you didn't know was happening while you were living it.
Maybe healing is not becoming who you were before.
Maybe it's meeting the person you've become
and finally deciding to stay.
Maybe being loved is not someone holding you forever.
Maybe it's someone knowing exactly where you're fragile
and choosing to be gentle there.
Some people feel like a place you've never visited but somehow already miss.
If my heart had a bookshelf,
your name wouldn't be on the cover of a book.
It would be written in the margins of all of them.
She stopped texting first. Not because she didnβt care, but because she got tired of proving it alone.
