You must learn to forgive a man when he’s in love. He’s always a nuisance.
THE LIGHT THAT FAILED, RUDYARD KIPLING
I’m always wondering if he’ll return. Sometimes I pray that he doesn’t. And sometimes I hope he will. I wish on falling stars and eyelashes. Absence isn’t solid the way death is. It’s fluid, like language. And it hurts so much…so, so much.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
hurts oh so much.
Posted by I.P at 3:17 PM
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