Seeing old photographs of us is like grinding coffee beans in my own mouth.
what happened to us? i've always pictured my college years spent in each other's houses having sleepovers and laughing the hours away. i always thought we'd be sharing our first job hunting experience and ranting in frustration of the wrong turns and wasted gas trying to find the right street. i imagined having this lifelong bond filled with memories of when we were just little children with no sense of the real world.
often i've wondered about the what ifs. what if i wasn't such an immature jerk? what if i remained the quiet people-pleaser that i was, would things have been better? was this really God's plan or was it mine?
how long will these memories keep me company? i've tried shoving them deep into the unconscious, yet it finds a way back. i've tried the whole crying it out, but somehow, i ran out of tears long before i ran out of memories.
maybe i just have to forgive myself. maybe i just have to forgive you.
