If you asked me I wouldn't know what to answer. Eventually, after much consideration, all the words unspoken would come out as annoying beams of light, preventing me from sleeping.
Even if you ask me now I can surely tell you that I still don't know what to say, don't even have any idea of how to begin. Nevertheless, after you were gone, all that could have been said used to laugh at my lonely, regretful figure.
You know what? I have a big list of should've-been-said words. They're a sad group of unrealized reactions and unfulfilled expectations. They're meaningless, taken away from the only context they would fit in and make sense: the past. This little drop of water that, once it's spilled, can never come back.
October 27th, 2010.
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