A moment of mournful nostalgia
Somehow I've managed to unearth all these snippets of conversations I had with Mike over the years. Bits and pieces of IM conversations deemed necessary to save on my computer, etc. Reading over them reveals only evidence of a great relationship - all the funny, good times...the content I choose to remember. I've got video clips and pictures from 2006, a piece of the printer we hurled off the roof of Mason Hall, a folder of some of his columns from the Leader and Finale printouts of music he wrote me. When all these things are lumped together, I can't help but feel an odd, unknown feeling mixed with regret for how things turned out. Three years of perforated struggle that just got abruptly...abandoned. With good reason...but, still.
I've been too busy being ridiculously happy with Jeremy that I guess I never mourned the (final, actual) end of my strange closeted affiliation with Magoo. Well, this entry is it.
And if it gets too late, for me to wait
For you to find you love me, and tell me so
It's ok
Don't need to say it
I've been too busy being ridiculously happy with Jeremy that I guess I never mourned the (final, actual) end of my strange closeted affiliation with Magoo. Well, this entry is it.
And if it gets too late, for me to wait
For you to find you love me, and tell me so
It's ok
Don't need to say it