When you do something, it's better not to look back.

And now I don't quite know if I should have done it at all. One and a half years is a long time, for a teenager especially. A faint breath of what might have been, a quickening pulse. Then trying, trying! not to think so much.

This is why blogs are good.

Locked away into my memory files, in a separate drive. To be taken out and enjoyed, once in a while. That's all it will remain, I think. But I am grateful for it, and I am done being melancholic.

I just never knew it would hurt so much.