That’s what the world is, after all: an endless battle of contrasting memories. 

There’s a part of me that thinks perhaps we go on existing in a place even after we’ve left it. 

One of the most difficult things to think about in life is one’s regrets. Something will happen to you, and you will do the wrong thing, and for years afterward you will wish you done something different. 

How deep they drove themselves into me, the things it was impossible to say aloud.

I understand I can’t have you. But I want to know you’re in the world with me. 

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