this is the end
17 is a lucky number. Or if not lucky, at least important.
In any event, let's make pretend that June 17th (and June is also a lucky month, in case you're wondering) is the perfect day to say that I am undeniably single again, even though I've spent the last week flushing out the things that remind me of her from my car, my room, and every other little corner of this world that I inhabit.
Today, it's all in the process of being locked in dark, far-away corners where nobody, especially me, will ever see it again. Unless of course it's a rainy day and I need something to put me in a melancholy mood to sync me up with the weather outside. Then, maybe just a peek. It's all a happy kind of sad, you know.
In less words: We've broken up now and there's no turning back.
In any event, let's make pretend that June 17th (and June is also a lucky month, in case you're wondering) is the perfect day to say that I am undeniably single again, even though I've spent the last week flushing out the things that remind me of her from my car, my room, and every other little corner of this world that I inhabit.
Today, it's all in the process of being locked in dark, far-away corners where nobody, especially me, will ever see it again. Unless of course it's a rainy day and I need something to put me in a melancholy mood to sync me up with the weather outside. Then, maybe just a peek. It's all a happy kind of sad, you know.
In less words: We've broken up now and there's no turning back.