September 2008
Conversation #422893
Him: You know I still love you.
You: I know.
Him: We just aren't good together.
You: I know.
Him: Can we ever be good together?
You: I don't know.
Him: I'd like to think so.
You: Me too.
"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you..."
I have this recurring dream. I sit in an apartment. It has white walls and ebony wood floors. Behind me is a wall of shelves, packed messily with books upon books, crammed tight and uneven, and begging for me to exert every ounce of my OCD efforts on it to organize them.
I sit at a desk, also ebony wood, an ashtray full of Marlboro Light 100 butts beside my right wrist, one hanging from my lips...
You Make it Real - James Morrison
