She had an earthquake on her mind.
"I have begun to feel that the story I am trying to tell is somehow incompatible with language, that the degree to which it resists language is an exact measure of how closely I have come to saying something important, and that when the moment arrives for me to say the one truly important thing (assuming it exists), I will not be able to say it."
- Paul Auster
Reduced to tears, everyday, for what I did. I never cry. Not cry as in actually cry. I cry when I've hurt someone.
Words that are too hard to say I can write here. It's a comfort. Maybe they mean nothing to no one but me, but seeing the actual words out there is comforting.
C. If you're reading this. Jag saknar dig. Det gör ont. Voices of a distant star, maybe that connection was just my imagination.
I'm a runner, I keep on running. I think I'm secretely hoping that someone someday will just follow, stop me.
I cried when walking away after biology class. I cried on the bus home, again. It was dark. Small puddles of rainwater reflecting the shades of black hunting eachother in the night sky. The perfect soundtrack in my ears, a playlist I call "Miracles, when you believe".
This immense sadness, this belief.
I'm human, after all, like everyone else. We make mistakes, some more than others.
Even when darkness seems to enclose us, we must find those slight glimpses of hope. To go on. The world turns.
So I made a list, or rather, G helped me think of the bright sides of my life.
1. My mother. Never been better between us. I love her.
2. Sara. Light of my life. Where would I be without you?
3. G. So fucking happy we worked things out.
4. Paul Auster. Reading, reading, reading.
5. MUSIC. Without it I would die. New lovers: Anberlin.
(And if Mads and all other amazing people out there should happen to read this - I love you too, so extremely much I fail to find words for it.)
Sometimes you wish some things never would have happened.
