i can't imagine he knew it would hurt us so badly to have him gone. i can't imagine that he would have gone if he had known. or maybe he hurt worse than this. maybe this is how cold it had gotten where he lay.
and either way.
it
breaks
me
right
in
two.
last night as joe played his guitar and zoe sipped her vodka and i held my beer close i remembered all sorts of things and it mostly felt good and i mostly felt alive and i mostly wanted to laugh. and i like to say this is all i've got but i've always got more. i mean i have to right? i mean what else can i do?
and sometimes i want to just send a text to ivan anyway. like maybe if i could just pretend for a minute that he was there to read it it would make him feel less far away.
and i want to feel glass break on brick walls.
and i am in love.
so join me for a cup of soup. tell me over coffee about the things you do. because i could use the distraction and i like the sounds of you.
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