Saturday, November 24, 2012

"Angry, and half in love with [you], and tremendously sorry, I turned away."
― F. Scott Fitzgerald


The pullover smells of you. The letter smells of you the most, because you like to spray them with your scent. Do not underestimate the power of a scent. It brings you back in time. It brings you back to a place. It evokes an emotion that you thought you had so instinctively chosen to forget, so adamantly refused to remember. Turns out it was always there, at a dusty corner of your conflicted soul.

This dissonance... I can't come to a consensus. Heart and mind, like the North and Baltic seas. Where I am is where both seas meet - they can't merge because they have different densities.

I can't set myself up for disappointment again.

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