Today after work I drove to Buffenmeyer road. In the bare spot (our spot) by the train tracks, under the bridge I turned on Whatsername. I thought about what words I would leave him if I decided to ever do this. I came up with this:
"Isnt it ironic that the place you broke my heart, I hope you never forget. I hope you regret letting those words come out of your mouth at that time and I hope you realize what you did to me when you said it."
I cant take all the ghosts in this town. Ya know, the ones only you see but dont talk about because its to painful of a memory. Fuck memories. Fuck pictures, they all just turn into painful reminders of the past and what used to be. Fuck you.
"What the fuck was I to you?!"
"A friend, someone I loved. And a fucking memory."
"Ya know what? I dont love you. You dont even get to be a memory."
-Jesus of Suburbia video
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